University
by Mariel Nightstalker
Summary: This is a story in three parts about Harry and Draco going away to school together. Well, not together intentionally. That bit comes later. SLASH Harry/Draco
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: This is my 100th story, and I don't think I need to tell you all how surreal that is. Because it is my century mark I took a little more time than usual, mostly biting my nails, and tried to come up with something different. This is a story in three/six parts about two young men letting go of childhood and going out to find meaning, purpose, independence, and love.

The story is supposed to be in three parts but the files were too big, so each part has been split in half.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.. I make no profit from this piece of fan fiction.

**Warning:** This will contain homosexuality, nudity, cursing, and possibly vulgarity as well.

**University**

**Part One A**

Harry Potter was not enjoying the novelty of his 'eighth year' at Hogwarts. The school building was different now. The war had destroyed large sections of it, some of which could never be repaired due to some complicated problem with the layering of wards. It was still under repairs when students were accepted back into its halls. The sections available for classes were considerably more cramped. The essence of Hogwarts had changed too. It no longer radiated the same strange mystique and comfort Harry remembered. Now it was just a run-down castle filled with children and their caretakers.

The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw House dormitories had been destroyed, which meant that all students were crammed into the Hufflepuff and Slytherin dormitories together. Boys were kept in the Slytherin dungeons and girls in the Hufflepuff quarters, which were close to the greenhouses. This revisal of living arrangements wasn't as bad as it could have been, considering that there were only a bare two hundred students attending the school. House rivalry did not survive the War.

The variety of coursework had shrunk to the bare minimum required. That is to say, the subjects specifically asked for in OWLS and NEWTS. Hermione was furious and still, a month into term, ranting about the lack of educational stimulus. The fact that she considered twenty courses per semester to be the bare minimum of coursework required for her to attach the term "stimulating" shall be ignored.

Eight year was lacking in stimulus in general. After settling in and getting used to not drawing his wand at every loud or unexpected thing, the boredom came like a heavy fog to fill his days and obscure the meaning in everything. He began to wonder why he had bothered to come back to school. He wondered why he wanted to be an Auror. He wondered if he even wanted to be an Auror at all, or if that was just a pipe dream left over from wanting to copy his dad.

It made his stomach do funny unpleasant things, but his suspicions about the pipe dream theory were growing every day. If he didn't want to be an Auror, what _did _he want to be? He couldn't just be nothing. Well, he could afford to _do_ nothing, but he would rather die than spend his life twiddling his thumbs and throwing parties every time he got bored or lonely. And not only because the list of people he could stand to spend time with at a party had shrunk to less than twenty.

Things were bleak.

~000~

Harry was making his way to Runes on Thursday afternoon of his second week at school when he suddenly realized that he didn't want to go to class. This realization had come and gone many times over the years and he'd usually ignored it and gone to class anyway. Having a friend like Hermione can do that to you.

But not today. Today Hermione was already in class and wouldn't realize that he was outright skipping for at least ten more minutes. Ten minutes was plenty of time to go far, far away where she couldn't find him and drag him to class.

He turned down a hall in the opposite direction and began walking faster. He was not going to Runes today. No sir.

So focused was he on not attending Runes that he failed to notice the person coming down the hall. If he'd seen her, he would have tried to hide or look busy or perhaps even go to Runes out of desperation. But it was too late.

"Harry!"

"Ginny!" she startled the answering greeting out of him. He wondered if he looked as guilty as he felt.

His relationship with Ginny was…complicated. It didn't used to be. Once upon a time she was his best friend's little sister and that was that. Then she was the girl who stared at him a lot, and then he started to stare back out of curiosity. The war got worse, though nobody was brave enough to call it a war yet at that time. He began to feel this strange isolation no matter where he was. It kept him up at night and destroyed his concentration. Everything seemed to be coming closer and closer, crushing him.

And then he realized that she was staring at him because she fancied him. Being a brave girl she'd kissed him, and that great big empty feeling went away just for a moment. From then on he stopped thinking about Ginny. He knew it was complicated and that it was just plain rude for him to not devote a moment's consideration for what must be going through her mind. But he couldn't stop to think, because thinking would ruin everything. All he needed to know was that everything was somehow okay when he was with her.

Inevitably he had to go and pursue Voldemort. She made him promise that they would be together when everything was over. He promised. He wanted to everything to be okay.

Now everything was over. Now he had to keep that promise, except that empty feeling was gone now. He didn't need her like he had before. He was confused and couldn't understand what had changed between them. Hadn't they been in love?

He'd managed to dodge her for the most part since returning to school. The distance between their dormitories helped and they were so busy at first.

She looked nice. Uniforms were no longer required, mostly because textiles had suddenly become precious and a little bit because the uniforms were more than many students and their families could afford. It was warm today. She was dressed in a thin flowery frock.

He smiled nervously and she kissed him. The kiss came without warning. He felt nothing as her mouth covered his for a good half a minute. He responded to her movements dumbly, like a puppet, all the while filled with turmoil. It didn't feel right. He felt like he was kissing Hermione, or perhaps Ron.

When she finally pulled away he knew she must have felt something was off as well because her eyes were wary. She reached out and took his hand. She squeezed his fingers. This felt alright. This felt affectionate and normal. She smiled a little.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Runes?"

"What? Oh, uh, ha, yeah…"

She grinned, "Its okay. I'm supposed to be in Arithmancy but it's just too nice to sit in the dungeons. Do you want to come for a walk with me?"

He didn't, but technically she was still his girlfriend and he had no logical excuse to give her should he say no.

"Sure, yeah, alright; what do you say we head behind the greenhouses? There's a gap in classes there, so we won't be spotted."

She snorted and began to walk with him in that direction, "What would they do to us? Give us detention like a bunch of kids? Haven't you noticed that the teachers treat us differently? Or you, really. It's like you're an adult who just happens to be studying here."

He hadn't noticed, but now that he thought about it she was right. Maybe he should have taken more advantage of that. He mused on missed opportunities until Ginny squeezed his hand and said in a soft voice,

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Don't you…don't you like me anymore?"

Oh god.

"What?" he faked a laugh, "Why would you ask me that? Of course I like you."

She stopped and he was forced to stop as well. She still held his hand, and he knew that she was stronger than she looked. Her grip had tightened by degrees until it was almost painful. By Merlin she was a fierce Beater.

"I just…I know you're fond of me, and I'm fond of you, but I don't think this is working."

Relief washed through him. He didn't have to say anything! _She _was dumping_ him._

"I think our relationship is in a rut, and that we've gotten so comfortable around each other that we could go on just kissing and holding hands forever. Harry, I think we should…" a tint of pink touched her cheeks but her eyes were resolute behind her embarrassment, "I think we should have sex."

His relief vanished like fog on a summer day. What was he supposed to do? What could he say? And why, pray tell, was the thought of intercourse with Ginny so repulsive? She was pretty. She was nice. She was smart. Hell, she was even funny when she wanted to be.

He opened his mouth, a gentle platitude all planned out, and what came out was:

"I think we should stop seeing each other."

She went stiff and frozen, her hand in his suddenly gone. He was momentarily relieved that she wasn't going to break his hand. Her eyes fixed on him and he felt like the lowest worm of worms when he saw that she realized he was being serious. She took a step back. He took a step back, unconsciously mimicking her.

"What?"

"I said we should-"

"I heard you. Do you mean take a break or for keeps?"

He swallowed, "For keeps."

She shocked him to the core when she shrugged and let out a long sigh. "I guess I should have seen this one coming. Luna was right. You really are gay. I've been wondering and then that look you gave me when I brought up sex kind of clinched it. So, like, do you fancy a bloke right now or do you just not want to be with me?"

"I…"

Gay? She thought he was gay? Of course he wasn't gay! That was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. He'd kissed loads of girls! Okay, no, he hadn't. Cho kissed him, and it'd been a near thing with Romilda Vane. Come to think of it, Ginny was the only girl that really "counted". And right now the very thought of putting his hands anywhere near her breasts or whatever it was she had under her skirt was appalling.

Was he gay? Or was she just not the right person?

She raised her eyebrows, and he wondered how much of his thought process had been obvious from his facial expressions. He flushed. She laughed and punched him in the arm.

"Relax, stupid! I still want to be your friend, if it's not too awkward. Just don't tell Ron I'm not a virgin. Oh, and if you ever want to tell me about the guy you fancy, feel free to. No judgment."

And with that she sauntered off, looking as relaxed as he'd felt before she dropped the gay bomb on his lap.

Damn it, what if he was gay? Lord only knew he'd checked out Cormac McLaggen enough times to make himself wonder. Perhaps McLaggen didn't count, though. He put underwear models to shame. That hair! Those eyes! And those muscles!

Shit.

He dragged a hand through his hair and decided to just ditch the rest of the day as a total loss. He trudged through the school to one of the many tunnels to Hogsmeade. He would be recognized, but it was better than going to classes. He had some thinking to do.

~000~

Ron and Hermione were, well, loved up. It was almost nauseating to watch the two people notorious for bickering about anything and everything doting on each other like a couple of love birds. Not that Harry and the rest of the school weren't happy for them; quite the opposite. Things were much more peaceful without the sharp sound of Hermione slapping Ron for something stupid he'd said or done and Ron's roars of outrage whenever Hermione punctured his thin skin.

The problem was that Harry felt like a third wheel.

He had been wishing for his best friends to just get over themselves for years. Now that they finally had, he wondered if he had perhaps been a tad shortsighted. As a newly-single person, he found himself with no one to talk to. He could talk to Neville, but Neville had become close with a pair of newly-sorted Hufflepuff boys and they had their own set of private jokes and an undying devotion to the study of plants. Harry's sole non-school-experience with plants was his aunt's garden, and he didn't think there was much crossover there.

It wasn't that he didn't try to talk to the other students, either. He just had trouble relating to them. Those that didn't worship him like a demigod were immature and unaffected by the war.

Then there was Luna.

Divination was no longer formally taught at school, so Luna Lovegood had started an initially small study group for all interested parties that had suddenly swelled to include almost the entire female student body and a good amount of their male counterparts, most of whom attended to watch the girls do weird things with crystal balls and stare very hard at tea.

Because of her group Luna didn't have much free time until after supper. Then she could usually be found wandering the library like a lost lamb, singing quietly. She would take a book down, read a little, and then put it back. She would do this for hours and then wander the grounds until curfew.

Harry escorted her on her walks. At first he was nervous around her. Ginny had said that Luna was the one that told her he was gay, after all. But Luna was Luna, and it became impossible for him to remain tense and wary around her. He confided his doubts in her, and she listened solemnly to all of his concerns.

Finally one night she said in that curious lilting voice, "Harry, I really do think that you like men. I think a nice, strong, intelligent man could make you very happy. Will you promise to try, should you meet a man like that?"

Harry didn't know what to say, so he just agreed and told himself to forget about it.

Except he couldn't forget. He couldn't help it. The thought of being with someone like that was tantalizing. The more he thought about dating someone he wouldn't struggle to understand all the time, someone without breasts and a fascination with painting her skin different colors to look more attractive, the more he liked the idea.

Maybe it wouldn't be so horrible if he was gay. No one he cared about was homophobic, not even Ron, so what did it matter? He would worry about this when he fancied somebody.

~000~

Technical schoolboy though he was, Harry was still a "Figure of Interest" to the Press, Ministry, and just about every advertising agency that knew his name (which was all of them).

Hogsmeade weekends became something of a challenge. The Ministry regularly sent people to try and recruit Harry for just about everything, and he considered it a twisted sort of game to come up with stupid and absurd excuses for why he couldn't participate in whatever it was that they wanted him to join.

He honestly didn't think that becoming a member of twenty different archaic Ministry elite clubs would improve the public's morale. On the contrary, what he thought would actually do some good was donating to the War Orphans Shelter(s) and War Widows Fund. The Goblins at Gringott's weren't too happy with him for donating as much as he had, but he couldn't in good conscience sit on his parent's fortune while less-fortunate people suffered the after shocks of the war.

He almost stopped going to Hogsmeade altogether when politicians began to show up and tried to convince him to back them in various causes or to form alliances. Politics were not his thing. He'd had enough of that horse and pony show, thank you very much. All he wanted was to be left alone.

It was the first weekend of November when he dodged one of the above politicians by ducking into a school book shop. It was small and dim and dusty, and he easily lost the lobbyist in the close-set stacks by climbing on top of one and lying flat until the man gave up and left, cursing under his breath.

He climbed down and decided to browse a bit before he left. He didn't want to risk running into the same man waiting for him outside.

The shelf he was next to was devoted to Magical Universities. His eyebrows climbed. Stupid though it seems, he hadn't been aware that there was such a thing. Trade schools made sense, but actual universities?

He browsed through the information, becoming interested despite himself. He picked up a newer volume with the title 'Scholarship Programs' and in opening it dislodged a stapled sheaf of paper.

It was an application. He tucked it back into the book and would have continued browsing, except something pulled him back. He took out the papers again and flipped ever-so-casually through them. All that was necessary to apply for the University of Circe's Scholarship for Disadvantaged Youth was a set of NEWTS scores no older than 6 months and an essay describing why you wanted to attend the school. If the school liked the sound of you they would award the scholarship. There were seven places in the program.

He pocketed the application on a whim.

A week later he decided in the middle of Transfiguration class, after flipping through his NEWTS-level textbooks and realizing that he could do all of it in his sleep, that he was going to go to the Ministry and take his NEWTS next week. He would have taken it right away but decided that it would be better to review all the material before he went leaping into tests.

There was just no point waiting until the end of the year to take the exams. If he passed them but decided not to go to a University, he could always get an apprenticeship with one of the Professors and still be with his friends, when they had time for him, until the end of the year.

He decided not to tell Ron and Hermione. They hadn't said anything to him yet, but he'd overheard Hermione casually talking about how young her aunt had married and how happy she was. The way Ron had blushed with pleasure revealed that he didn't find the thought of an early marriage unappealing.

The last thing they needed was Harry making them worried. Besides, if he wasn't accepted (and he doubted he would be), then all their fuss would be for nothing. No. It was best if they didn't know until it was all over.

~000~

His NEWTS proctor was named Carol. He estimated her age to be somewhere between 30 and 35. She was unmarried. He suspected this was because Carol was repulsive. She smelled of garlic, scowled like a gargoyle, and gave him a static shock every time she passed by due to the fact that she wore three wool sweaters and a wool skirt. He suspected her lavender hand-knit stockings were also woolen.

Despite the distraction that was Carol, who had a nasty cough on top of her electrical field, he completed all of his exams with time to spare and without encountering more than a handful of questions that required more than a moment's thought. He began to wonder if he had a chance at this thing after all.

The essay was trickier. What could he say? He'd never been much of a writer. He almost gave in and asked Hermione for advice, but got an idea just as he was walking through the library to confess his plans and prostrate himself for her wisdom.

Why not write about his life? The choices and consequences that comprised his life were hardly lacking in interest and excitement. The essay could be up to 10 feet long. That was plenty of space to natter on about his childhood and unusual adolescence. If he was lucky, the Board of Circe's University would find him worthy.

He optimistically planned to complete it in a single evening. It took him a week.

When he finished he wasn't entirely satisfied with the result, but he was running out of time and he knew that if he tried to improve it he would end up scrapping it entirely and just giving up the plan. He didn't feel guilty about leaving out the most complicated bits. There were certain details that he still didn't understand completely and therefore didn't get into all. Sirius was one, Severus Snape another. And, for some reason, so was Draco Malfoy. He couldn't understand why it was so hard to describe an old rival turned ally.

He let sleeping dogs lie and mailed his application with a day to spare.

~000~

Two weeks later a blue scroll arrived late at night, delivered by a Bearded Vulture, the same bird on the University of Circe's crest. Harry was, thankfully, spending the evening alone in the library with a book on Quidditch.

He reached to take the scroll and realized that his hands were shaking. Until then he hadn't realized how nervous he was about this. He hadn't let himself think about how much he wanted to go away, to live in another city and meet interesting people his age, and try new things. New things that didn't have the potential of getting him killed, that is.

The scroll was written in English, which was a relief. He skimmed it and let out an exultant shout without meaning to. He was accepted! And the Board said they would be honored to have a teenaged veteran as a student as long as he kept his grades above a certain median.

He rose and began to walk uneasily around the little room between the shelves. He would have to tell Ron and Hermione that he was leaving now.

~000~

"I applied on the off chance that they'd pick me, and they did."

Hermione remained silent, as if she was thinking about something else. He fidgeted and then made himself stop. Finally she said in her soft, serious voice,

"I love you, Harry, and I want you to do what will make you happy. God only knows that you more than deserve whatever happiness you can get; I just want you to write me and tell me all about Paris, alright?"

"Thanks," he said, relief rushing through him a cool flood. "I'll write you a nice long letter."

Ron wasn't half so easy to win over. Ron became outright angry when Harry told him, and even angrier the more Harry tried to explain. He had never been very good at expressing himself with words, and everything he said just seemed to make it worse.

"Fucking hell, Harry! Don't you understand? This was it. This was it! This, this last year of school, is what I fought for alongside all those ideals and what not. I wanted us to have this time together to just be kids. No Voldemort hanging over us and no Draco Malfoy jeering. After this, sure, we can grow up."

Harry swallowed. "We're still best friends, Ron. I wanted that too, you know. I'm just…I'm different now. I grew up even though I didn't want to. I can't keep pretending to be a kid. And I really want this! Please, can't you just be happy for me?"

"I am happy if you're happy. I want you to know, though, that I'm disappointed in you for letting me down. You promised that we would have this year, the three of us, and then you and I could enroll in the Auror's program while Hermione did whatever it is that Hermione does with those books of hers."

He paused and looked so unhappy that Harry almost tore up the slim blue scroll in his hands. He wanted Ron to be pleased, not miserable.

"Don't you see? None of us will ever be together like this again. I will become an Auror, Hermione is going into the Research and Development Department, and now you are going out of the fucking country to do Merlin knows what in France! France!"

Ron took a deep breath as though to go on. Harry stiffened his chin and cut him off.

"Ron! I am going to university in another country, yes, but that doesn't mean that I am dying or going to prison or something. I will take a Portkey back every other weekend and spend it with you and Hermione if you still want to see me. We can still be together."

Ron sat down heavily on his bed and sank forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He inhaled noisily through his nose. Harry knew all the tell-tale signs that Ron was about to cry and didn't want Harry to see. Harry sat down beside him and hesitated a second before he wrapped his arms around him and tucked his face into the crook of Ron's neck. They sat there very still together for a long time.

Harry could feel the warm wet sensation of Ron's tears soaking into the fabric of his trousers and the little shudders that went through him. He felt miserable but also as though something deep inside of him had been released.

He felt at peace with himself and the world.

~000~

This was it. Tomorrow, at six in the morning, he would be taking a Portkey to Wizarding Paris, France, to attend the University of Circe. His trunk was packed and he'd said his goodbyes. He'd laid out his clothes for the next morning and made sure he had clean socks and briefs. The weather was supposed to be fine, December notwithstanding. His alarm was set and he'd checked it twice.

Now he lay in bed, waiting to fall asleep.

Harry's last thought before drifting off was to wonder about whatever had happened to Draco Malfoy. The last time he saw him was after his trial. He'd vouched for him and felt a sense of peace when Draco was pardoned due to evidence Harry had provided that his loyalty was to the Light. Afterwards they'd both gone to the men's room at the same time quite by accident. There was a tense moment at the sinks until Harry broke it by frankly thanking him for saving his life.

Draco's thin lips turned had up ever so briefly, but it'd been a smile.

Harry thought specifically about that smile until he began to dream.

~000~

**End Part One A**

…Why does this site have to cramp my style? Why?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: This is my 100th story, and I don't think I need to tell you all how surreal that is. Because it is my century mark I took a little more time than usual, mostly biting my nails, and tried to come up with something different. This is a story in three/six parts about two young men letting go of childhood and going out to find meaning, purpose, independence, and love.

The story is supposed to be in three parts but the files were too big, so each part has been split in half.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.. I make no profit from this piece of fan fiction.

**Warning:** This will contain homosexuality, nudity, cursing, and possibly vulgarity as well.

**University**

**Part One B**

~000~

Looking out the window at what remained of their grounds, Draco's eyes flicked to a peacock that paused to glitter and scream. He could hear his mother speaking behind him but couldn't discern her words. Ever since peace had been declared, he'd lived like a man lost in a fog. Nothing interested him anymore. Sometimes just getting out of bed in the morning seemed an exercise in futility.

He had been out of prison for a week.

He'd spent his first week enjoying the freedom of moving around freely and wide open spaces. He would sit for hours watching the rows of elm trees standing like giants on the outskirts of the grounds, listening to the wind rustling their leaves and the birds twittering to one another.

At night he stood alone in the wide corridor, as wide as a room, which cut off so abruptly where the destruction to his property started. The hall was carpeted in lavender and smelt of history and dust and just a trace of smoke still, all these months later.

Harry had been here, doing heroic things like saving his life and everyone else's as well. His breath caught and he became determined not to think about anything at all in case he thought of Harry again. When he thought about Harry he felt the world slipping away. Hours could pass without his noticing them.

His feelings for Harry were his deepest, darkest secret. And he meant to keep them that way.

~000~

She was a tall, beautifully built girl. Her hair was soft and heavy, of a pallid gold color, called ash blonde. She had no genetic disorders and no history of insanity on either side of her family. She had received very high marks on her NEWTS, taken two years early, and had an excellent reputation. She was considered fashionable, but not too avant-garde. She was also rich. Astoria Greengrass was everything and more you could ask for in a Pureblood wife.

Unfortunately, Draco was not interested in a wife, no matter her qualifications.

He had elected to not return to Hogwarts as an 'Eighth Year'. What would be the point? He'd studied for, taken, and passed his NEWTS while in prison for lack of anything better to do with his time. His scores were exemplary in all subjects but Potions, and that wasn't even his fault. He was forbidden access to ingredients that would be used to brew a weapon and consequently failed the practical Potion brewing section of the exams.

He'd been living at home in what was left of Malfoy Manor since his release. Between sleeping, avoiding his mother and ignoring his mail he had done his best to patch together his ancestral home. He'd always gotten high marks in conceptual thinking, so it was more of a game than real labor to him.

The grounds were mostly untouched and easy to repair, but entire wings and their priceless contents had been destroyed forever. The fiery pit of hatred he felt for the Ministry and Voldemort together burned hotter with every shattered artifact and burnt portrait frame he had to dismantle for waste removal.

He'd started reading all the books he'd always wanted to read before and hadn't gotten around to, fiction and non-fiction. He'd actually begun to enjoy himself after a fashion during his two months as a free man.

But then his mother went ahead and ruined everything when she got the idea into her head that what would restore their place in society or at least in the eyes of their tax-collectors would be for Draco to marry, and to marry well.

When she first sat him down in her favorite parlor, the Pink Room (which was done up in blue), and told him about her plan he had laughed long and loudly. He was sure she was joking. Who would want to marry _him? _Unlike Astoria, he did have a history of insanity in his family thanks to his Aunt Bellatrix. He had no money and no prospects of getting any. They managed to live decently off of a small fortune an old uncle had left Narcissa. Contrary to popular belief, the Malfoys were good at stretching a half-penny.

Furthermore he just didn't feel ready to settle down. He was nineteen and though he didn't feel that young the fact remained. It was common for Purebloods with money to marry young for the sake of forming alliances, but he was no longer a wealthy young man of prestige. He was an ex-convict and he still carried the sign of the monster that had destroyed his life and his family on his forearm.

The tiny detail of his sexuality could also cause problems down the road, when their social circles began expecting little Malfoys running about. Draco was gay, but no one but Blaise knew that. And Blaise only knew because of an unfortunate New Years Eve incidence when Draco had drunk too much stolen champagne and kissed him. Blaise was sworn to secrecy, of course, but he had no illusions about how flimsy a promise from a Slytherin could be.

There was no way he could tell his mother. She loved him, and loved him fiercely, but she would be so disappointed in him if she knew.

Astoria helped herself to another slice of cake. It was her third. She noticed him notice and laughed nervously. "I have this thing about always doing things in threes if I can."

He raised his eyebrows, amused and nonplussed.

"Does that sound foolish?" she looked at him anxiously, waiting for his reply. He was reminded that she had been a Ravenclaw.

He let himself give her a little smile, "Not at all."

"Oh, good!"

Neither of them said anything after that. They listened to the soft sounds of the radio and the rain pattering against the broad picture windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling all along the wall. He could feel his mother's disapproval radiating from across the three feet separating them on the horsehair sofa but ignored it. He had made his misgivings about an arranged marriage clear to her last week. He had said that he would give it a try, but not to expect anything spectacular. She had no right to act so outraged.

Astoria finally left and it was obvious to all of them that, though Astoria had no complaints about Draco, Draco did not approve of her. He was mystified as to why his opinion should matter so much to her. He was nobody now. He was only the last male heir of the British branch of their family.

He nodded to his mother and left before she could gather her wits enough to yell at him for being rude to Astoria.

~000~

He has been secretly applying to universities, both Muggle and Magical, since he came out of his post-prison depression but none of the Magical British schools wanted someone with his reputation attending them. He discovered that he simply couldn't afford the Muggle options even though he was qualified to attend.

He began to despair and seriously consider marrying one of the girls his mother was throwing at him, if only because it would get him out of the house. He'd fixed most of the major problems and redecorated the really atrocious rooms that had itched at him from childhood. His father's taste had not been…well.

The seventh marriage prospect his mother presented him with was named Primrose Pennington.

Primrose had delicate pink cheeks and a petite figure, but there was a curious slant to her eyes that told of wild energy dammed tightly up inside, behind that proper Pureblood façade. He felt real, inexplicable terror whenever she lifted her knife to butter her scone.

As soon as she had gone he rounded out his mother, finger accusingly pointed, and stated, "If it kills me, I will never see that girl again!"

His mother put her hands on her hips and quoted, ""A rolling stone gathers no moss." Son, what do you have against moss? Moss is pretty, like Primrose."

He opened his mouth to retort but caught sight of the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. His eyes widened.

"Mother! Did you bring her here as a prank?"

She just smiled and left the room. He stuffed a scone into his mouth whole, not caring if their remaining house elves saw him. He stalked over to the windows and looked over the grounds as he chewed.

He choked when an exceptionally fat owl flew smack into the window out of nowhere and completely without warning. He rushed outside to retrieve it and carried the poor plump creature inside. He made sure it was only stunned before he even bothered to read the message it was carrying.

It was from his cousin Octavian. The last time they'd seen each other was when they were twelve years old. He remembered that they were on good terms as children. He also remembered that Octavian lived in France.

The letter was an invitation to come and visit him for a week. He immediately flipped it over and wrote back that he would be more than happy to come and see him. He didn't bother to consult his mother. If she was going to go around introducing him to demons in human flesh for her own amusement, he could jolly well go to France to see Octavian when he felt like it.

~000~

His mother didn't quite see things the same way.

"Draco, you are my son. I know that we do not always see eye-to-eye, but that hardly makes us unique. I love you. I want the best for you. But if you go on this trip you will miss a genuine interview with Miss Florence Fritten!"

His eyebrows rose. His mother had taken to arranging false interviews with obviously unsuitable young ladies to annoy him and to amuse herself. He had begun to think that she was slowly getting over the fact that he didn't want to get married. But Florence Fritten wasn't someone you could just brush aside.

He couldn't begin to imagine how his mother had managed to get Florence interested in the prospect of marrying him in the first place.

Florence was a first-class everything. Draco was firmly in the gay camp, but should he be asked to choose the one woman who could make him reconsider, it was Florence. At age seventeen she stood one inch short of six feet tall, had a head of thick blonde hair down to her waist, and body that could make a grown man cry. She'd been educated at Beauxbatons and had led a very cosmopolitan life. The Frittens had wisely left the country at the first rumblings of unrest and only returned three months ago from their international holidaying; the Frittens always were good at looking out for their best interests, a valuable trait.

He was torn.

"Please excuse me, Mother. I need a little time to reconsider."

It was raining but he went on a walk, keeping close to the tree line in case lightning should strike. He hadn't remembered to change his shoes before setting off and they quickly became heavy and caked with mud. He knelt and removed them, banishing them to his rooms with a flick of his wand. His water-logged robes went the same way. He continued on in only his thin undershirt and trousers.

The cold mud and colder rain felt good beating against his skin and helped soothe him. He wanted and needed to get away from this house and all the memories that went along with it, but he wasn't a fool. An interview with the likes of Florence would never happen twice.

Could he really play the husband and father role, though? Yes, he could, for a while. Not forever, though. His only sexual contact with another man had been that fateful kiss with Blaise, but that kiss had been enough to cement his perception of his sexuality. He couldn't help it; he liked men. There wasn't a potion to fix that; there were potions to fix any problems he might have fathering children with Florence.

After several hours of trooping around the grounds and catching his death of cold he went back inside to tell his mother his decision. He cleaned and dried himself with charms but didn't bother to change his clothes or put on shoes.

She was, predictably, in the Pink Parlor with an imported magazine. Her eyes flicked to his bare feet sinking into the cerulean carpet. He ignored her disapproval.

"I will stay for the interview with Florence. But if it doesn't go well, I am going away for as long as I like."

She nodded, "Fair enough. If you go away and find that you prefer elsewhere to here, I shall sell the house and move to my great aunt's house in the Caribbean."

He started. He hadn't known that she too felt stifled by the wreckage of their past life. It was stupid of him to assume that she would have been unaffected by all that had happened, by all they had lost. He decided to let her do something that would make her happy. He gave her a resigned smile and asked,

"What do you want me to wear?"

Her face lit up and he had only a moment to regret his moment of compassion before she was on him and dragging him up the stairs to his rooms.

~000~

"I think there are some things you should know before this discussion goes any farther. I fear and mistrust virtually all children and have absolutely no intention of having any of my own. I have also recently lost a great deal of money, which is why I am having this interview in the first place."

Florence did not mince words or beat around bushes. She hadn't even bothered to say hello before she crushed both reasons Draco was even considering marrying her. He nodded politely and took a sip of tea to hide the huge smile that spread across his face. He hadn't let himself think about how much he'd been subconsciously dreading what would happen if he really did marry her and settle down like his mother wanted.

"I thank you for being honest. Would you like a biscuit? They're imported and terribly good."

They parted on good terms. No remarks were made about a second meeting.

Narcissa could only shrug when they were alone again. "I wasn't expecting that. I guess you can go and visit Octavian if it suits you."

"It does."

~000~

He sent a quick letter to Octavian and explained everything to him, apologizing for the merry-go-round he'd put him through. He asked if he would be alright with Draco coming to visit him that Sunday.

The reply came a mere three hours later. It was only one word. Yes.

Draco looked up the weather and accordingly packed a week's worth of clothes that would be appropriate. He made sure that everything was nice but not obviously magical, just in case he ended up in the Muggle half of Paris. He hadn't been to Paris in years and didn't trust his memory of how blurry the line was between magic and Muggle there.

The portkey presented a problem when the customs officer looked him up and discovered that he had been convicted as a Death Eater. Fortunately, a nerve wracking series of memos later, he was granted leave to exit the country.

The morning of his departure Narcissa kissed his cheek and said,

"Don't embarrass me."

He laughed shortly and kissed her cheek. "I'll try not to."

~000~

Octavian was just as easy to get along with as he'd remembered. A fellow introvert, he respected Draco's occasional need to just be alone with his thoughts and abhorrence of loud noises, strangers, and dancing.

The apartment was large, eleven rooms in all. They were painted in a color palette of teal, blue, and heavy cream. Gold mouldings covered the ceiling and gilt-edged mirrors hung on every spare bit of wall. The lack of portraits was noticeable but Draco didn't comment upon it. He wasn't too fond of portraits himself, to be honest. It was nice to eat, sleep, and bathe safe in the knowledge that one's ancestors weren't watching.

They ate all their meals together and spent their mornings separate and their afternoons doing whatever struck their fancy. Evenings were split between staying in and going out.

During a breakfast of tangerines and soft white cheese on Wednesday Octavian broke their comfortable silence.

"I'm afraid that something annoying has come up. My cousin Mabel needs to see me this afternoon, and knowing her I won't be back until late tonight. Will you be alright on your own today?"

Draco gave him a reassuring smile. Octavian was a very considerate young man, full of insecurity and concern for his fellow man. It was one of the reasons they got on so well. Draco could completely relax, safe in the knowledge that Octavian wouldn't say anything insensitive or stir up unpleasant memories. He hadn't let himself feel so relaxed since before he'd attended Hogwarts.

"Oh, good! I've got to go and put some things in order to show her. Please, feel free to take your time at breakfast. Here's the paper, if you'd like it."

Draco accepted the paper and watched Octavian go. Alone at last, he peeled and portioned a tangerine. He spat the pips out the open window into the window box crowded with flowers and felt the special drunkenness of that fruit on his tongue. He opened the newspaper and familiarized himself with the political climate of Magical Paris.

He finished his breakfast a half hour later and was in the process of folding up the paper when he saw an advertisement at the back. It was for a new bar and restaurant opening up two streets away. That was nothing interesting, but the fact that it was advertised as an ideal place for same-sex couples to mingle was.

At first he was hesitant. Octavian hadn't given him any indication that he was homophobic, but a lifetime in the closet had taught Draco to be cautious about making his sexual preferences known. But Octavian wouldn't be here tonight. He wouldn't have to know. Besides, he was getting a little ahead of himself. It was unlikely that he would find anyone he'd want to go home with the first night he went out officially as a gay man. He could just go for dinner and look.

He spent the morning taking a long walk around the neighborhood. He stopped in a boutique and bought a tasteful pearl bracelet for his mother. The pearls were blue and would match a favorite necklace of hers.

For lunch he purchased a loaf of bread and pre-packaged salad at a grocers. He sat outside in a park while he ate and watched a group of very young children play and shriek together on the swing set and slide on the far side of the park. From his vantage point they looked like little bright balls of color tumbling and racing around in the warm autumn sunshine.

In the afternoon he visited a historical estate and garden. They had supposedly belonged to the last known descendant of King Arthur, a scholar and politician named Sir Nicholas Stossen credited with the discovery of the permanent levitation charm. In the gardens were a collection of floating pagodas in the oriental style, brightly painted and filled with exotic birds. Flight had been a long-time fascination of the late Sir Stossen, and he'd dedicated his private time to the preservation and discovery of rare birds.

Draco stayed until six o'clock, watching and listening to the sound of those tropical birds arguing with one another. The waning sunlight slanted pleasantly across the garden plots and a chill wind began to twist through his clothes and cool him.

He headed back to Octavian's apartment at last.

When he stood in his room he hesitated. Did he really want to go to a gay bar tonight? Alone, no less?

Yes, he did. If he didn't now, when would he get another chance? All he was doing was getting something to eat and observing how the gay scene functioned in Magical Paris. It wasn't like he was going to an orgy or an S&M club. It was just dinner and a drink.

He took his time bathing and selected his clothing with care. He settled on a Muggle suit made with green subtly-checked fabric. It'd been a birthday present from Theodore Nott. He paired it with a pale blue button-down shirt and a lavender sweater. It was cold out these nights and he hadn't brought a coat that would match it.

There were plenty of mirrors to inspect himself in. he took a deep breath and decided that he really did look alright. He smoothed his hands through his hair and decided that it needed cutting. It was to his shoulders now and he was starting to look like his father. He would get it cut tomorrow morning.

It was cold outside, like he'd been expecting, and he was glad of his sweater and the soft grey leather gloves he'd packed on a whim. He had thin skin that cracked easily in cold weather.

The restaurant was named the D'abord Réunion and was easy to find. It was obviously an old bar that had been converted into a classier establishment. The façade was freshly scrubbed and the letters proclaiming the name on the front window were done in the latest popular script. There was a line of people waiting outside. Most of them were men. Draco swallowed and forced himself to apply his public mask of aloof self-assurance. He was pleased when more than a few pairs of eyes followed his movements to the end of the line.

He stood behind a lesbian couple, one small and blonde and the other only slightly taller though far more athletic. With a start he recognized the blonde as Fleur Delacour's younger sister Gabrielle. Well. This was an interesting development.

She turned to look at something five minutes into his wait and her eyes landed on him.

"Malfoy?"

"Hello, Gabrielle," he responded in French, happy for all those childhood lessons, "It is nice to see you again."

"Yeah! Wow. So, you're…you know…"

A flush threatened to creep up his neck and onto his face. He forced it down.

"Yes, though I'd appreciate it if you didn't sell the story to the news."

She grinned, "I wouldn't dream of it. Oh, this is Persis, my girlfriend."

Persis, the dark-haired girl with her, gave him a nod but not a smile. She had a hard set to her mouth and seemed the taciturn type. He smiled politely. Not two minutes later, which he spent catching up with Gabrielle, he was admitted in and opted for a seat in a small corner table.

He ordered a fish concoction that sounded good and a glass of the white wine recommended by his waiter. The waiter, Fredric or Quinton or something like that, was overly friendly at first but soon cooled off when Draco expressed through body language that he wasn't interested in that kind of service. He'd told himself he would come to observe, and flirting with a random waiter was not on the agenda. Malfoys did not consort with just anyone.

The food was good. He spent his meal quietly observing his fellow patrons. The crowd by the bar was noisy and energetic, but the seated patrons mostly spoke in low voices to their partners and friends and just generally behaved themselves. Other than the gender blending and occasional unusual outfit, they looked like ordinary people.

He was relieved. He'd never met an openly gay man before and didn't know how much of the stereotypes would be true. It was silly of him to expect there to be much truth to a stereotype, but those clichés are made for a reason.

He ordered a second glass of wine and the flourless chocolate cake. It came with a sprig of mint and fresh raspberries. He had just taken a bite when someone laid a hand on his shoulder.

The interloper was a handsome man of average height. His hair and eyes were dark, and he had a close-trimmed beard. He was older than Draco, perhaps in the middle of his thirties. He smiled down at Draco with a set of bright white teeth. He spoke English when he asked,

"Do you mind if I join you? I've gotten tired of sitting in a big booth all alone."

Draco shrugged his hand off but tilted his head towards the chair. He swallowed and responded in French, "Be my guest."

Fredric came over and took the stranger's order for a whiskey, neat. When he'd gone the stranger smiled at him again, but with less teeth, and said,

"I'm sorry for not introducing myself before I sat down. I'm Vivian Van Veen, and I'm very happy to make your acquaintance."

Draco shook the offered hand, "Draco."

"Draco? No last name?"

"No last name," Draco confirmed, finally letting go of his hand. Their shake had been more of a touching of hands that had gone on longer than absolutely necessary. Draco found that he'd enjoyed the simple freedom to do that small act. To touch a man without fear that he had touched too long or too intimately.

Vivian asked if the cake was any good and Draco let him try some to see for himself. They chatted casually while they waited for Vivian's drink, and Draco became slowly aware that Vivian was flirting with him. Somehow he hadn't quite realized that at first. He couldn't completely fight a blush this time. He could tell that Vivian had noticed.

Draco had one hand on the table, a finger loosely hooked around the stem of his half-empty wine glass. Vivian covered his hand with his own.

"I'm not going to hide it from you; I noticed you when you first came striding down the street out there to wait in line with the rest of us. You walked as though the street and everyone in it belonged to you. I found that very attractive, and I still do. Draco, would you like to come somewhere with me?"

Draco had every intention of saying no. he had come here to observe, not participate. But…Octavian wouldn't be back until late. What was he going to do, go home and go to bed early with a book like an old woman? Vivian was handsome and available and he wanted him.

Besides, if he changed his mind later he could always say no and go home to his empty bed.

He let himself smile and flipped his hand over so that he could grasp Vivian's.

"I would like that. Did you have somewhere in mind?"

Vivian took him to a small apartment a few streets away. Although small it was well-decorated and it was obvious that Vivian could afford a larger place but didn't because he had all the space he needed. He was offered a drink. He asked for ice water. It was hardly romantic, but his mind was already starting to buzz with hormones too long repressed and he needed to cool off and back away to think straight for at least a minute.

He removed his suit jacket and told himself to stop being so nervous. Vivian was a man, not a monster.

It didn't help that Vivian smelled exactly like Harry. He forced the thought away. The scent of oranges entered his senses as Vivian came to join him in the cozy living area with two glasses of water. Draco unconsciously checked the drink for tampering and, finding it clean, took a drink. Vivian gestured to the sofa.

Draco sat.

Vivian sat down next to him. They smiled shyly at each other and drank their water.

Somehow five seconds later, as soon as Draco had set down his water on the low table in front of the sofa, Vivian's hands had woven into his blonde hair and he was being kissed. He sat perfectly still for all of five seconds more before his body caught up with his brain and responded in kind.

At one point Vivian moved to lay back against the arm of the sofa, legs splayed, with Draco between them kissing anything that took his fancy and wasn't covered with clothing. The clothing soon became a problem and they moved to the bedroom to solve it.

Draco didn't leave until four in the morning, light-headed and giddy with pleasure. Vivian's address and floo number were in his pocket. He didn't know if he wanted to see Vivian again, but the prospect of further exploits was tempting.

~000~

It was Saturday when Octavian asked over a lunch of cold pasta salad if he would do him a huge favor. Draco slowed his chewing and then swallowed.

"I don't know. I don't have a lot of funds right now-"

"It's not that kind of favor," Octavian reassured him, waving a hand. His bone structure was very similar to Draco, and they moved like one another. Watching Octavian wave his hand was like watching himself in the mirror. "I need to go away for a few months. Mabel's mother has Dragon Pox and Mabel wants to take care of her but she's got two little ones. She asked me to watch out for them and her house while she's in Scotland taking care of her mother, and I said I would if I could find somebody to stay here. So…well, would you like to stay here for a few months?"

Draco wanted to say yes, but he still had to consult Narcissa. He said he'd think about it and let him know before he went back home. Octavian smiled and passed him the olives.

"Thanks, Draco."

~000~

Unbelievably, his mother was alright with him staying in France indefinitely. All she asked was that he commutes during the next two weeks to finalize the sale of the Manor if he was intending to stay in France. The wording of her letter was not polite, but he understood her anger at his sudden decision. Narcissa didn't like it when he surprised her with drastic decisions. She liked to have time to make plans and other nonsense that no one understood the importance of but her.

He agonized all Saturday night before deciding that selling the Manor, symbol of misery and debt that it was, would be liberating. Not to mention that he felt happier than he felt in years. He had the freedom to do whatever he desired without fear that his mother would walk in on him or catch him in some sexual act with another man.

Now all he needed to do was figure out what he was going to do with himself now that he was staying in France.

After some thought he decided to continue what he had been trying to do whilst in England. He applied to the scholarship programs of the Universities of Circe, Diana, and Hecate.

Two weeks later he got a letter saying that the University of Circe had accepted his application and would be very pleased to see him on the first of December, when their school year officially started.

He still didn't understand the bizarre schedule that magical universities kept. What was the point of starting for two weeks and then taking off three weeks for the holidays before starting up again? He decided it had to be one of those ridiculous traditions no one had bothered to make more reasonable.

He wrote to tell his mother of his acceptance and she wrote back her congratulations. She was living in the Caribbean now, and had enclosed a photograph of her gorgeous little yellow-painted cottage. She'd bought a dog named Benedict and a trio of goats to keep her company.

He had a month before classes started. During that time he met Vivian three more times at Vivian's apartment. Neither of them demanded anything of the other but physical pleasure. Draco didn't know if this was normal or not, but he did know that it was convenient and that he wasn't ready for a real relationship with a man yet.

~000~

Harry found an apartment a ten-minute walk from the school.

He considered getting a room mate but decided in the end that he'd rather be alone, really alone, for the first time in years. He needed some time to think and just breathe.

Three days before the official start of school he was invited to the Headmistress' office to meet the other scholarship students.

He was seated across from Draco Malfoy.

They stared at each other in stunned shock, neither able to believe their eyes. how on earth had this happened?

~000~

**End Part One**

There will be two more parts, uploaded when I have the time and energy. Review and tell me what you think!

P.S. YES THIS MEANS I AM NOT DEAD.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: This is my 100th story, and I don't think I need to tell you all how surreal that is. Because it is my century mark I took a little more time than usual, mostly biting my nails, and tried to come up with something different. This is a story in three/six parts about two young men letting go of childhood and going out to find meaning, purpose, independence, and love.

The story is supposed to be in three parts but the files were too big, so each part has been split in half.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. I make no profit from this piece of fan fiction.

**Warning:** This will contain homosexuality, nudity, cursing, and possibly vulgarity as well.

**University**

**Part Two A**

~000~

He thought about ignoring Harry entirely. He didn't owe him or any of the other scholarship students anything. But he couldn't sit across from Harry and pretend he wasn't there, or that he meant as much as a bare stretch of wall to him. As though possessed, and perhaps he was, he let his face soften just the barest bit and gave his old rival a nod.

Harry looked surprised, and rightly so. After a moment he smiled back at him, properly and with teeth, and nodded back.

The meeting was a complete waste of time. It was an excuse for their Headmistress, a dry as dust woman with one foot in the grave named Dolores Troyle, to ramble on about absolutely nothing relevant or so important that it couldn't have just been put in a pamphlet.

Draco was ready to slit his wrists after the first half hour and ready to slit everyone else's after an hour. Fortunately for everyone in the room, she only rambled on for ten more minutes before clearing her throat and passing out thick stacks of parchment with her wand.

Draco inspected his and realized that it was a list of the available classes and included a list of popular extracurricular activities and study groups along with detailed profiles on their professors.

They were dismissed, so he didn't get a chance to really look through it just then.

Harry was the first one out of the room, and he watched him go with a strange sensation in his chest, as though something inside were clenching and releasing in paroxysms of desire.

Harry had looked nice. He'd cut his hair shorter than Draco had ever seen it, and was wearing Muggle clothes that fit and didn't have any holes or stains on them. He wasn't going to deceive himself. He'd very much enjoyed seeing Harry wearing a pair of trousers that didn't completely conceal the lean lines of his legs, previously only glimpsed during Quidditch games. Harry had also grown a bit more, now finally tall enough to be considered average.

Draco gathered his things, applied his jacket, and left the room.

At the foot of the staircase he paused to survey the view he had of the school from that vantage point. He thought for a moment and then chose to explore the campus instead of going home right away. It would be good to familiarize himself with the lay of the buildings now rather than in three days when it was packed with new and returning students.

Externally it was not a large campus. There were only four main buildings separated by well-kept blue-graveled paths lined by landscaping similar to a park. Trees were accompanied either by a bench or flower bed around the base. It was very beautiful.

Further inspection of the four buildings, all of which were the size of large houses, revealed them to be dedicated to certain subjects. The first was dedicated to Magical Medicine. A glance at the roster of classes posted to the message board beside the door revealed the field to be considerably larger than he'd expected. Genetic engineering and anything to do with modifying the human body fell under the umbrella. The second was Magical Theory, which covered things like Runes, Divination, Philosophy of Magic, and Mathematics. The third and fourth were dedicated to Magical Arts and General Studies respectively. From what he'd gathered there was a set schedule for first year students that required them to study a prescribed set of courses in General Studies, which was why he'd only just now received a list of alternative classes to plan for next year.

Every building had the school's crest of a screeching Bearded Vulture carved into the stone mantle above the door. The doors, made of ancient gnarled wood, were carved with depictions of the school's namesake Circe performing various magical feats.

Draco hadn't known that Circe was a real witch. He thought she was someone the Muggles made up. And perhaps she was. He didn't know what to think any more. In Britain the division between magic and reality was razor sharp and protected by the Statute of Secrecy. Things were different in France. Here Wizards still kept their magic a secret for logical reasons but saw no reason to not participate fully in Muggle culture. After all, it was very handy to have machines to do mundane tasks instead of always exhausting yourself with spells.

It was a nice day and the campus was peaceful. After exploring the buildings, all of which were bigger on the inside and consisted of orderly halls lined with doors leading to perfectly cubist classrooms with rows of desks, benches, and a blackboard across the front. He came across a few greenhouses and a potions laboratory, but was otherwise bored by the classrooms. They were logically numbered and had the subject's name and class registry number printed neatly on plaques set into the wall beside the door. it was all very organized and foreign after the chaotic experience of classes at Hogwarts, where stairs were never where you left them and professors tried to get you killed.

He finished his exploration and satisfied himself that he would know where to find all of his very boring General Studies classes come Monday. Bored now, he sat down on a cold wooden bench beneath a bare-branched birch tree and took out his parchments from the Headmistress.

He flipped to the list of professors out of curiosity, skipping the list of classes. He already knew which classes he was taking and didn't need to read a fucking description.

And lo and behold, right there at the very end of the list was a Professor Vivian Van Veen, Magical Master of Ancient Runes (M.M.A.R.).

Magical Runes just so happened to be Draco's primary area of interest, and his reason for going to University. Well. This was going to be interesting.

He closed the magazine with a bemused smile and put it away in his bag. His hands were cold and he would rather go home now than use a warming charm. Charms had never been his favorites and he disliked using them just for any old excuse.

~000~

The day lay before him like a blank piece of paper.

It was Harry's first real Saturday and he didn't know what to do with it. Before now there had always been something horrible, boring, or social for him to do. Now that all of his enemies were dead and many of his old responsibilities were gone he didn't have any tasks to accomplish. His friends were all back in England, so he had no chance of a real social experience. He'd already written letters to everyone yesterday night, too, so he had nothing to do but wait for them to reply.

He could go out to a bar or a club or something like that, but he had never been outgoing or interested in having a large circle of acquaintances. Most of the people he knew he had met out of necessity during the War or when he was very young.

With a shock he realized that he had no idea to just go out and make friends like a normal person. He supposed this shouldn't have been so shocking after all, everything taken into consideration. There were many normal things he couldn't do that were balanced out by abnormal skills. How many people could talk to snakes?

His apartment did not offer many sources of amusement now that he was completely unpacked.

It was a small affair, but it was just right for him. He liked that it was just one room with a closet and a bathroom against the far end. There was a sink and cooling cabinet against one wall, and a large sofa against the other that folded out into a bed at night. A few cushioning charms had made it as comfortable as a king's bed; Harry saw no need to go out a buy a big fancy affair when a sofa would do just as well.

There was loads of natural sunlight from the wall his kitchen was against, and a little door that led out to a staircase to the roof. His landlady, a friendly liberated Iranian woman named Mahshid, had a vegetable, herb, and flower garden up there where the tenants could sit as long as they didn't molest her plants or leave cigarettes lying around.

Harry didn't smoke and didn't touch things that didn't belong to him unless it was a matter of life or death. It was safe to say that Mahshid already doted on him.

For lack of better options he took out his school information and went up to sit on the roof. The plants were huddled under their winter tarps and packed around tightly with straw. He wondered what kind of flowers she was growing, and how soon they would bloom when winter was over.

He cast a warming charm and settled down against the low brick wall that ringed the roof. The concrete he sat on was cold. He didn't feel it.

The classes were the expected review of Arithmancy, Runes, Transfiguration, Potions, and the like. It was more of a review of NEWTS-level studies to make sure you hadn't cheated on your tests. He took a look at the syllabuses for his prescribed classes and smiled when he saw that the review was actually only half of the year. There were some very advanced Potions towards the end of the year that he looked forward to tackling.

Reading Snape's old textbooks had helped him grasp the basic concepts of Potions, something that Snape had never bothered with when actually teaching, so Potions no longer presented a massive challenge to him. He didn't really feel much interest in the subject, though, until he'd had about a month and a half between the end of the War and the start of his Eighth Year when he lived alone. He'd spent most of his time going to meetings at the Ministry and helping repair the country.

He'd also spent his time cooking.

Living alone forces you to confront a lot of things that could normally be shoved off onto other people. When he lived technically alone he was confronted with a multitude of little decisions about how he was going to run his household that he had never needed to make before. He tried to ignore them at first but he soon got tired to eating sandwiches and kicking up a cloud of dust anytime he went into any rooms besides the kitchen and his bedroom. Grimmauld Place was too large for one person to live in alone, but he'd made a noble effort to keep it clean and succeeded for the most part. Cleaning charms came easily.

Most charms came easily. He'd gathered that he got his knack from his mother.

It was cooking that provided the real challenge. He found soups were easiest. As long as you had a good base and remembered to sauté the vegetables before you put them together in the broth so that they wouldn't cook unevenly, he could mix together just about anything and have it come out tasting alright.

Unfortunately he was a high-achiever, and couldn't just be content with being proficient in soups. He'd experimented with a variety of different meals both plebian and gourmet, native and global. He started to really enjoy himself, but had to go back to school just as he was really getting into it. We can't have everything.

Going back to school, he'd been surprised to find that Potions no longer felt like dumping things in a pot and hoping it wouldn't explode. He thought about the potion like a meal now, and it came that much easier. It was even fun.

He hadn't put his decision in stone yet, but he was leaning towards getting a Double Magical Masters in Potions and Advanced Charms. He was excited to see how far he could go with charm work without using his wand; though that was a dirty little secret he meant to keep.

The early afternoon was spent carefully examining the classes and the instructors who taught them. He made sure to study the map of the school, which was very simple, to see where the classes would be held. They seemed to all be in the same building, General Studies, which made everything easy. He'd heard horror stories about Muggle campuses.

When he was finished with his academic preparation he was at a loss. His apartment was spotless and he wasn't hungry.

He stood and stretched, looking around at the city. It was beautiful in Paris, even though it was December and gray-skied. With a sigh he deflated and went back downstairs. Putting on a coat, he stuffed a miniaturized book and his wallet into his pockets and went out.

He was going to look for a job.

~000~

Draco settled into classes without a hitch. He had mixed feelings about the fact that, through some quirk of the scheduling, he did not have a single class with Harry. He sometimes wondered late at night if he had imagined the whole thing. It was certainly unlikely that Potter would be at a University and that Potter would smile at him the way he had. No, Potter was supposed to be back at Hogwarts with Granger and Weasley being his usual heroic self.

But the fact remained that he _had _seen Potter. He wondered what had made Potter leave his friends and surrogate family to come to France and student god knew what.

He hadn't seen Vivian for a week and had to smile. Vivian told him was busy but not what he was busy with. He didn't know that Draco would be under his tutelage next year as an apprentice and student. The last time he'd seen Vivian he had been surprised by his lover's ardor yet again. He still didn't understand what made Vivian so attracted to him but he wasn't going to complain. Vivian was an adequate lover and a considerate man who didn't pry into his past, personal life, or disrespect him in any way. It was nice to just have a simple relationship with someone that didn't expect things from him that he didn't want to give.

He consciously doesn't make friends. He was not only the only gay in his classes, which put many of his male classmates on edge; he was also the only English student. He didn't see why he should speak to anyone that didn't want to speak to him of their own accord.

He wasn't lonely. He had made considerable progress with his personal reading and he explored the city between classes. There was so much art and culture available to the public. Most of it was Muggle, for which he was grateful. Muggles were more accepting of homosexuality.

He could pass for straight if he wanted to. He had played straight for years and deserved an Oscar for his performance. It was just that he didn't want to pretend anymore. He didn't wear flamboyant or neon clothing or talk with a lisp or anything as obvious as that, but he no longer tried to be more traditionally masculine than he naturally was. He didn't hide that he liked art, that he liked romantic literature from the turn of the century, or that he liked men. And people could tell somehow from the way he walked that he was gay and happy about it.

Vivian had never asked him to be his exclusive partner. Draco had slept with two other people just to see what it would be like. He hadn't enjoyed his experience with either of his alternate partners. One had left him unsatisfied and the other had been rude when he got a cramp in the middle of a position he didn't like anyway. They had parted without finishing. He decided that Vivian was enough for him.

He happily wandered the city and read everything the Bronte sisters had ever written alone until his Transfiguration class required him to work with a study group on a collective project to complete and present when they returned from Christmas break.

It did not escape his notice that his study group was female-dominated. The only other male student was a member of the Muggle subculture commonly called 'Goth', and ignored everyone in the group. He spent the group's brainstorming time doodling the word 'death' on his note paper.

Draco had no idea what someone like that was doing at a university. Why attend at all if you weren't serious about studying? Why waste yours and everyone else's time? Merlin only knew that a higher degree wasn't expected of you in the Magical world. If you went beyond OWLS people thought you were clever.

The girls were superficially friendly, and he found himself spending time after classes with a beautiful French-African exchange student named Adelaide. Adelaide didn't seem to mind his sexual orientation and just seemed to enjoy having someone to debate Charlotte Bronte's "Shirley" with.

When they parted for the Christmas holidays with promises to write he realized that she was his friend. He hadn't made a friend just like that in a long time.

Slytherin house was perceived a sort of Old Boys Club for a reason. Not so much now, but in the past almost all of its members came from families that had known one another for centuries. Not all of those families had gotten along. There were as many feuds and friendships, but for the most part he had known almost all of his fellow house members since early childhood.

It was surreal to meet and like someone just for the sake of liking them. It was even stranger to have conversations that had nothing to do with inbuilt jokes and stories everyone knew.

It was…nice. He liked the feeling, and he liked Adelaide. She made him happy and made him think, two things he valued most in friendship despite what other people thought.

He was enjoying University. The only fly in his paradise pudding was that he still hadn't seen Harry, much less formed any sort of connection with him. He didn't know what he wanted or if there was any chance of getting it, but he did know that something inside him that he suspected was his soul ached with want.

~000~

Gabrielle showed up on Harry's doorstep a week after he'd moved in. He'd only just gotten into the schedule of going to class, doing homework, and generally being an adult. Things had been better, but he still didn't know what to do with himself socially other than write letters to friends far away.

He wondered how she'd gotten his address. For obvious reasons his move to France had been kept under tight wraps and his personal contact information even more so. Only a privileged few knew where to find him.

He hadn't even had time to open his mouth and say hello before she said,

"Hermione told me where to find you."

"Oh. Well, come on in," he stood to the side. He caught a whiff of her perfume as she passed. It was camellias.

He offered coffee and she accepted, making herself at home on his sofa.

"I can only stay a few minutes, so I'll just ask you right away. Would you like to go out to dinner? I feel like I owe you a huge favor from way back and that now's the time to pay."

"Oh please don't feel that way!" he exclaimed, handing her the mug, "I barely remember that. But I'll go out for dinner for sure. I'm going a little nuts these days."

They chatted about Fleur's latest child, Gabrielle showing him pictures from her wallet to illustrate the latest gossip, for half an hour before she had to leave. As she was buttoning her fleece jacket she asked,

"By the way, do you mind if my girlfriend joins us? She is supposed to be at work, but there is a small chance that she'll get the night off and I would prefer it if she was with us and not at home alone or out hanging around with her exes."

He waved away her concerns and said he didn't care if she brought a small army, as long as he didn't have to pay for them. She laughed and kissed his cheek before leaving.

Alone again, he wondered why he felt so unaccountably relieved to know that she was a lesbian.

~000~

Gabrielle's girlfriend was working after all, so they were left alone.

He would have felt uncomfortable under regular circumstances thanks to Cho. It was a knee-jerk reaction for him to become anxious and defensive when placed across a table from a pretty girl regardless of the circumstances.

Gabrielle didn't let him feel that way for long. As soon as they ordered drinks she launched into a hilarious story about a male co-worker who accidentally shredded an extremely important set of documents. She worked at a Muggle law firm with "a team of trained monkeys" as a general aide. She was in law school part time and aiming for a career in Environmental Law, which transferred easily into the Magical equivalent if she added 12 credits. Because she wanted a future in either Muggle Environmental policy or Creature Rights, it was the simplest solution to get both.

By the time she'd finished her spiel he was completely blown away and feeling insignificant.

"So tell me about you, Harry. Do you have a girlfriend? A boyfriend?"

He had inconveniently chosen that moment to take a sip of ice water. He choked on it and had to muffle his mouth in his sleeve until the fit had passed. Once that was over he just shook his head. Did he look like the kind of person that would have a boyfriend? Sure, Luna and Ginny knew he was gay, but he didn't think it was obvious or anything.

"Why did you ask me if I had a boyfriend?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. I

~000~

Draco reconnected with Vivian two days before Winter break began. He was passing through his neighborhood, arms full of groceries, when Vivian called out to him from a café where he was having lunch. He'd seen Draco walking past.

Draco smiled. He'd forgotten how handsome Vivian was.

"Hello! It's been a while."

Vivian looked sheepish. "I know, and I am sorry. Can I walk you home? We could talk. I have missed you."

Draco took a moment to think. They had always met at Vivian's apartment, and he had intended to keep it that way without putting too much thought into it. It was technically Octavian's home and he didn't know if he should be bringing lovers over even if nothing happened. But on the other hand Octavian was a very accommodating person and hadn't said anything about a 'No Guests' rule.

It couldn't hurt. He nodded his assent. Vivian took some of the bags from his arms. They walked slowly down the cobbled side streets to Octavian's opulent apartment.

"I really am sorry to have been away from you for so long. I just got caught up with starting up work again and I forgot to say hello to everyone, even my mother. She wasn't very happy with me today when she finally decided to come visit me at my desk."

Draco snorted, thinking of Narcissa. He never missed his weekly letter to prevent just such a thing from occurring. Who knew what she could walk in on.

"Oh wow. You live here?"

Draco realized how posh the apartment had to look from an outsider's perspective. He had to smile as he headed for the kitchen. Vivian followed, commenting on the décor of the apartment as they went and generally admiring everything.

He put away the groceries in record time and then, for lack of anything else to say, he asked if Vivian wanted a drink.

"I can't. I have to teach a class in an hour. I just wanted to see you."

They were leaning on counters opposite one another. They simultaneously smiled. Then Vivian stepped across the gap, put his hands on Draco's waist, and kissed him. Draco let him control the pace and style of the kiss, happy to just receive and support.

That was the beautiful thing about Vivian. He didn't love him, sure, and he didn't feel like his veins were on fire or that his stomach had turned to jelly when he saw him. but Vivian never asked more than he wanted to give, and was happy even without Draco meeting him halfway.

And that was alright. The only person Draco wanted to have a half-and-half equal relationship with was Harry, and there was no chance of that ever happening. We can't have everything we want in life. Sometimes settling doesn't feel so bad, either.

They kissed for a long time, neither of them making any moves to turn it into anything but that. This was new, and Draco was intrigued. He couldn't tell if this was because Vivian had to leave soon or because he just wanted to kiss for a change.

Vivian stroked his back and neck, touching his lips gently to the curve of Draco's jaw.

"Draco?" his voice was soft and heavy with breath.

"Yes?"

"Do you…do you want to be with me?"

Draco touched his back and Vivian leaned back so that they could see eye to eye. His expression was uncertain and vulnerable in a way Draco had never seen before. He swallowed.

"I…I don't know what to say. What do you mean?"

"I mean I want you to be my sweetheart. We haven't talked about what we are doing together, and I feel like we are more than just friends with benefits. I'm not asking you to marry me or move in with me or anything crazy. I just want you to be with me."

"Like a boyfriend?"

Vivian looked even more uncertain, "You don't have to. We can just forget I said anything-"

"No! I…" Draco laughed a little and pushed his fringe out of his eyes. He met Vivian's eyes and gave him a genuine smile, "I think I would like to be your boyfriend. I should warn you, though. I've never dated someone properly before, and I'm not sure of what the rules are."

"We can make up our own rules," Vivian moved in again and kissed him carefully on the lips, "Like, if you really, really want to sleep with somebody else, tell me before hand. Or if I do something that makes you feel uncomfortable or like we're going too fast, you can tell me to stop. And obviously both of those apply to me as well."

Draco didn't know how to describe how he was feeling. He was excited about having a real boyfriend, nervous about the future, and just slightly guilty. This felt like being unfaithful, but unfaithful to whom?

He buried all his worries deep down inside. They weren't important right now. And when Vivian asked him if he wanted to go with him to New York City for the Winter break he said yes.

~000~

Harry's Winter break was spent with the Weasleys.

Ginny winked at him constantly and cornered him late at night to demand information about Parisian men. He had nothing interesting to tell, for which she scolded him. Apparently he was not allowed to live in the most romantic city in the world and not even flirt with anyone.

She confided in him that she was dating one of the Herbology apprentices, a nice young man named Steven who worshipped the ground she walked on. Her mother didn't know and Ron certainly didn't. He asked why and she confessed that Steven was twenty-seven and technically already had a girlfriend.

He was surprised but offered no judgment. Ginny was seventeen and could make whatever mistakes she wanted to, within the law. Besides, when she showed him a picture of Steven he really couldn't blame her. Steven looked like one of those Muggle Burberry advertisements.

Ron and Hermione had done the impossible and actually gotten _closer _since he'd been gone. He found it ridiculous to even try to have a conversation with either of them when the other was in the same room, and was reduced to dividing them and speaking with them separately to get any coherence out of them.

It was nice to see his old friends in person and eat food he hadn't paid for or made himself, but he was happy to leave.

England definitely didn't feel like home anymore.

~000~

Walking down the hall after break during his second month at the University, Draco finally spotted Harry Potter at the other end. If he was able to think straight around Harry he would have simply nodded and continued on to class, but he was filled with the urge to say hello and before he knew what was going on he had approached him and done so.

Harry was just as surprised as Draco was that he had initiated a conversation. Once he'd recovered from his surprise, Harry was pleasant and responded politely to Draco's question of how he had been lately.

"I've been good. Classes are much easier than I thought, and I had a lovely break. How is your mother?"

"She's in the Caribbean and writes me about some new piece of arm candy every week."

Harry gave a surprised-sounding laugh.

"Oh my god how horrifying for you; you never should have let her go off by herself without a guard dog."

Draco smirked, "There's no stopping her. Hey, do you need to be somewhere right away?"

"No, I just got out and haven't got anything until tonight. Why? Did you want to hang out?"

Draco felt hope like he hadn't dared to feel hope when Harry suggested spending more time together. "I, yeah, if you've got nothing better to do."

Harry laughed again, "Why not? This is going to sound stupid, but ever since I saw you at that meeting last month I've been keeping an eye out for you. I thought it would be really special if we could, you know, put all the ugliness behind us and be nice."

"I'm in favor of nice."

Harry suggested a tea shop down the street that he liked, which Draco had never been to, and they set off for it. Flurries of snow were falling outside and Draco fought a hard battle with himself to keep from noticing the way the snow stuck to Harry's hair and eyelashes. It was an even harder battle to avoid looking at his wind-pink cheeks and how adorable he looked with his scarf bundled up under his chin.

Draco told him some of the outrageous and embarrassing things his mother was doing in the Caribbean and discovered that he really couldn't get enough of the sound of Harry's laugh. It sounded different now than he remembered hearing it back at Hogwarts. It was freer now.

They talked about classes and discovered that they had both run into Gabrielle. They avoided saying anything that could touch a sore spot, and kept well away from anything remotely heavy. It was nice to talk to Harry like this, in a way he never had with anyone but Adelaide.

Harry eventually had to leave for class after. His departure was softened with the casual promise to catch up some more at a later date that he threw over his shoulder. Draco watched him go, no doubt looking like a love struck fool to everyone else in the discreet little tea shop and not caring. The impossible had become possible. Not very possible, but possible still. And even if all he ever got from Harry was friendship he would still die happy because that was so much better than nothing.

Draco walked home to Octavian's flat feeling like he was full of air and just barely touching the ground.

~000~

That night Vivian was especially gentle and did all of Draco's favorite things from positions to the way he kissed ,but Draco just couldn't get off no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't help it. He felt sick to his stomach. He eventually asked Vivian if they could give it a rest, saying that he was worried about something his mother had said and just couldn't concentrate.

"I'm so sorry Viv."

"Ssh, don't worry; I understand. You can make it up to me later. Good night, Draco."

Vivian kissed him goodnight and turned off the light. After a moment he shyly shuffled his body over and wrapped himself around Draco, laying one last kiss on his cheek. Some time later, when Draco's breathing had evened out and he looked asleep, he heard Vivian softly whisper,

"I love you."

Vivian didn't feel right anymore, and sooner or later Draco was going to have to tell him.

~000~

End part two A

Review if you like it! Review if you hate it! Part B will be up as soon as real life stops being so complicated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: This is my 100th story, and I don't think I need to tell you all how surreal that is. Because it is my century mark I took a little more time than usual, mostly biting my nails, and tried to come up with something different. This is a story in three/six parts about two young men letting go of childhood and going out to find meaning, purpose, independence, and love.

The story is supposed to be in three parts but the files were too big, so each part has been split in half.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. I make no profit from this piece of fan fiction.

**Warning:** This will contain homosexuality, nudity, cursing, and possibly vulgarity as well.

**Sorry about Gabrielle's sentence appearing to be cut off last update! It was just supposed to be "I don't know." I guess I left a spare "I" in there, and that it was a little confusing. Sorry again!**

**University**

**Part Two B**

~000~

Harry had been turned down at every job he applied for. It wasn't that he couldn't work as hard as the other applicants or that he was lacking in enthusiasm, charm, or intelligence. The problem was that he had no experience. It wasn't something that he'd ever thought about before. Being the Boy Who Lived had warped his perspective of the future for too long. Now that he didn't want to work for the Ministry, become an Auror, or play professional Quidditch, he needed to actually analyze his options.

In the meantime he needed something to do on the weekends.

Finally he managed to find a job that required no previous experience in anything. He was so excited that he didn't read the small print before setting off for the named destination. He found himself outside a compound walled with a Victorian-style ironwork fence. Large holly bushes hugged tightly to the walls and old ivy curled up and over the gate, obscuring the words.

He made sure his wand and the kitchen knife he carried as backup were in place before he pushed open the gate and entered.

There was a brick-cobbled courtyard, vaguely circular in shape, awaiting him on the other side. On the far end of the courtyard was a small low building made of white stone with a blue door and large stained-glass windows.

Someone from inside must have seen him because he saw a curtain twitch and then the blue door was opening. A hefty middle-aged man with a beard tucked into the belt of his high-waisted tweed trousers waved enthusiastically at him and shouted something in French.

Harry decided that he really needed to improve his grasp of the language. Translating charms were exhausting and sometimes the translation itself made no sense. He smiled nervously and waved back, trotting over to him.

"Hello there! Are you here for the job? Please say yes! We really need somebody by tomorrow and you are the only person who's come in all day!"

It was after three in the afternoon. Harry winced.

"Um, what is the job?" his French must have come across really badly because the man's face brightened and he responded eagerly in English.

"You are foreign? Even better! How exotic!"

His enthusiasm was infectious. Harry found himself smiling back.

"Well, I don't know if England counts as exotic, but yeah, I'm foreign. Listen, the job…?"

"Oh yes, yes, yes of course. Come inside and I'll show you!"

He was half-dragged inside the low building. It was much larger on the inside, and the ceiling stretched high above his head in a dome painted like a blue sky. White puffs of cloud moved slowly across it and cherubs flirted and cavorted amongst them. The walls were papered with pink roses and the furniture was an eclectic mixture of cheap modern sofas surrounded by mountains of bric-a-brac.

He sat down on a white sofa and let himself sink into the cushions. His excitable host plopped down across from him and reached into the nearest pile of junk. He pulled out a cage no bigger than a paperback novel and carefully opened it. Harry watched with wide eyes as a little creature delicately stepped out and onto his hand. She was bright blue and radiated a soft glow. She looked like a Muggle interpretation of a fairy. She even wore a dress of magnolia petals.

"Wow."

Harry breathed the word, stunned. He had no memory of encountering anything like her in his Creatures class at Hogwarts.

"She's pretty, isn't she? And cheeky too! Griselda, say hello to the nice young man."

The creature looked him over and found him lacking. She turned her back and sat very still. His host sighed. "Oh, Griselda. Some day you will have to learn some manners. Now back in the cage you go!"

When she was safely inside he put the cage on the floor and clasped his hands on his lap. "First of all, my name is Bertram Bobbs, but you can call me Bertie. Everybody does. And your name is…?"

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you."

Bertie gave him a smile and continued, "Now, the job. This is a children's zoo, and yes we do have a petting area, filled with the more benign magical creatures. Our wee folk handler eloped last week and we've been trying to cover his shift ever since while we tried to find somebody to replace him. I'm an honest man, and I won't lie to you. The wee folks, flowers though they are, can be a bit of a handful. If they decide they don't like you, you'll be in for a bumpy ride."

Harry frowned, "Are you sure this job doesn't require any training?"

"Training? No, none at all. You just feed them twice a day and handle them when the children come to visit."

"Handle them?"

"Yes. They won't bite you, and you'll be in a wire cage so they can't escape if they happen to wriggle out of your hands. If you're polite and gentle you should be just fine." 

"…Right. I guess I would be alright with this job. I can only work weekends. Is that going to be a problem?"

"We are only open on weekends and holidays, so no."

"Oh!" well, that was incredibly easy. "Do I need to fill out some paperwork?"

He had to sign a three month contract. He decided he could dedicate himself to at least three months of handling miniature people. How hard could it be?

~000~

Draco met Harry again; it was in the exact same hallway he had seen him last time. They sat down right then and dug out their schedules, comparing them. It turned out that there was only one gap when they were both out of classes, and it was a three hour time gap, sometimes four if their evening classes were halved for reasons only the Professors understood (and had no intention of sharing with their students).

"So…" Harry started, frowning down at their schedules, "We could totally do some stuff together during this gap."

"Like what?" Draco swallowed and dragged his mind out of the gutter. Harry had obviously not meant that sexually.

"We could go places."

He smiled. "Where would we go?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry took off his glasses and began cleaning them. "We could go to the zoo or to the botanical gardens or the aquarium. We could look at art, or books, or just sit around in the park eating sweets and feeding the birds. If you'd like we can even go to the Muggle cinema."

"Those all sound nice."

There was a beat of silence during which they smiled shyly at each other. Harry abruptly cleared his throat and looked away, out the window, at the birds. Draco frowned, wondering what that had been about.

"How about a film?"

"Sure."

He knew it wasn't a date, but he couldn't keep from blushing whenever Harry said something funny and his palms were so sweaty he took off his gloves as they walked to the nearest Muggle Theater.

He had a boyfriend, and had agreed to let him know in advance if he wanted to sleep with somebody else. Not that Harry had given him any indication that he wanted to sleep with him. The thought still ran rampant through his mind. What would Harry be like? Would he be considerate and careful like Vivian? Or would that wild side he'd seen briefly during the War come out to play in the dark?

Sitting next to him in a dark theater did not help. Harry smelt of coffee and a citrus aftershave, and just a little bit of the bacon sandwich that Draco suspected he'd eaten for lunch. It was hardly exotic, but he was insanely turned on by it and had to sit with his legs crossed for the entire feature.

Afterwards he had no idea what it was about or even what the film had been called.

They made plans to meet again next week at the same time and place at school and parted ways. Draco wanted to sing, wanted to throw Harry into the nearest alleyway and seduce him, and wanted desperately to just go home and beat off some of the sexual energy soaring through him.

He decided to skip class. He infiltrated the teacher's area and headed straight to Vivian's office, hoping against hope that he would be free.

God was listening, because his knock was answered with a carefree, "Come in!"

He came in, and didn't pause in his stride to Vivian's desk. His boyfriend looked surprised to see him, and even more so when Draco stepped neatly around the desk to straddle his lap.

"Draco, what-"

"Shut up, please."

He kissed him with more passion than he had ever mustered before. He felt like a man possessed. Harry had filled him to the brim with lust and it was clawing at his insides, looking for any way out. Guilt tore at him but he pushed it away. He couldn't deal with ethics just then.

He gripped Vivian's hair and, with his eyes closed, pretended that the brown hair he was twisting through his fingers was black.

He pulled back after a while, panting and flushed, to regroup. Vivian looked rumpled and stared at him with dilated awe-struck eyes. Draco was dimly aware that both of Vivian's hands now tightly held his arse, and there was clear evidence pressed against his pelvis that Vivian was happy to see him.

Sanity was quickly returning to those brown eyes, though.

"Sweetheart, as much as I would like to, we can't do this here-"

Draco leaned in and sucked his upper lip for just a second. "Please don't fight with me. I need you."

Vivian swallowed. Draco knew he had surrendered. He pushed a hand into the open neckline of Vivian's shirt and pressed his palm flat against his pectoral. He could feel Vivian's heart thumping in his chest and had to smile, charmed.

"Is there somewhere we can go?"

"Just let me get an aide to cover my class. Wait here. Don't move."

Draco sat in his chair while he waited. He looked around curiously and then couldn't help himself. He opened the drawer in front of him and found the usual assortment of paper clips and other paraphernalia. But amongst all of it was a Polaroid, face-down. He flipped it over and felt his stomach clench when he saw that it was a picture of them sitting side by side at a restaurant. He was smiling.

He put it away and sat with his eyes closed until Vivian came back.

~000~

The job itself was not difficult. The wee folk were initially mistrustful of him, but he won them over by showing respect for their wishes and listening to their concerns and requests. In just two weekends he had completely won them over and everything was going smoothly. The pay was not incredible, but the job was more of a cure for boredom than a career so he didn't mind. He even got along with the other handlers, the few that he had met.

And then things went to shit. Claude, the Unicorn handler, introduced him to a girl named Vera who worked at a concession's stand. Harry was renowned for being dense when it came to matters of the heart, but Vera was so completely obvious that he had no trouble in detecting that she had romantic feelings for him. At first he was able to ignore it and decided to just avoid her.

Then one night he caught her following him home. He turned and confronted her.

"Vera, I know you live on the other side of town. Why are you following me?"

"I love you!"

He took a step back. That was not a good sign. She went on.

"Please, please go out with me! I know we don't really know each other, but I believe in love at first sight, and you're it!"

Fuck! There was no graceful way out of this. He took another step back and moved his book bag, which he used to bring his homework to work in case there was a lull, in front of his chest.

"Um, Vera, look…I can't go out with you."

"Why not? I've been following you for a while, since we met, and I know you don't have a girlfriend. I don't mean to pry; I'm just aching to know."

This was bad. He wracked his brain and then panicked when he couldn't think of anything. His survival instincts kicked in and his mouth opened of its own accord. What came out was,

"I'm gay."

Immediately a flush of freedom raced through his veins. It was as though saying it aloud just then finally made him believe it. He was gay. He was gay and that was alright. He didn't have to like women if he didn't want to. There was no one he loved telling him that he couldn't kiss, sleep with, or fall in love with a man if he so chose. He almost started to smile, but the sound of harsh hiccupping sobs tore him out of his reverie.

"Shit. Vera, I…"

What was he supposed to do? Were you supposed to comfort people even when you were the person who made them upset? He decided to risk it and put his arms around her. She immediately latched onto his waist like a steel corset and began to noisily wail into the lapel of his coat.

This was very embarrassing. It was late and the street was not a main thoroughfare. Still, he looked around for witnesses. And standing a mere ten feet away, looking absolutely horrified, was Claude. Their eyes met. Claude gave him a sympathetic wince. Harry rolled his eyes.

~000~

"Could I have your address? You know, just in case I need it for something."

It was the end of March, and Harry and Draco hadn't missed a single opportunity to spend time together. Sometimes they went to the movies, but most of the time they did tourist nonsense around the city. They talked a lot, much more than Draco ever had with anyone but his mother. Harry was very easy to talk to.

Now that they weren't fighting on opposite sides of the War and had none of their old friends or the pressure of the Hogwarts House Rivalry separating them, they discovered that they had a lot to say. They came to know each other and to know each other well.

It felt good to be with Harry. It felt good even though he was always burning with sexual frustration every time they parted, and took it out on Vivian at night when his class was over. Vivian hadn't asked him what it was about that day of the week that made him so passionate, but he knew Vivian had noticed.

"Of course. Here, let me write it down for you," Draco tore out a page of one of his school notepads and copied down Octavian's address. Draco had unusual handwriting. It was half print, half script; Harry commented favorably on it, expressing envy. Draco hadn't seen Harry's handwriting in years, but he remembered vaguely that it'd looked like chicken scratching. He had to smile.

When he was done Harry told him a story about the mysterious horrible woman that loved next door to him and made sounds like an animal at odd hours. Harry had only seen her once and described her as Banshee-like. Draco laughed and told him that he was probably imagining things.

They walked back to campus slowly, neither of them overeager to part ways just yet. The sun was starting to set and colored the sky in all shades of purple and orange. The sun itself looked like a great big egg yolk as it slowly sunk beneath the horizon of Paris.

Harry turned his head and smiled at Draco.

"This was fun. I like spending time with you, Draco. You're…relaxing; peaceful to be around. It's nice."

Draco blushed with pleasure.

"Thanks. I feel the same way. I'm sorry we fought for so long. I can't help but wonder what would have happen if things worked out differently."

Harry shrugged, "We did what we did. What matters is that we're mates now, and all of that is behind us."

"Yeah…"

They stood in the hall outside of Draco's class, looking at one another. Neither of them made any move to leave until Harry seemed to snap out of it and gave him a sheepish look.

"Um, goodbye. I'll see you next week?"

"Always."

With one more smile Harry turned and left. Draco went in to his class. He didn't hear a word of the lecture. He could very well have been imagining it, but he didn't think so. There had been something more in Harry's eyes. They never talked about relationships, so he had no idea if Harry was seeing anybody or what kind of person that somebody would be.

~000~

Harry didn't know when it started exactly or even what to call it, but around the same time he finally admitted his sexual preferences to himself, he had started looking at people differently. At one person differently, specifically.

Draco was so different from what he'd been expecting when he first suggested that they become friends. He was funny and very intelligent, and made Harry feel happy. He also made him feel something that his body recognized as lust that his mind was in denial of. There was no denying that Draco was attractive. His face was a bit more angular than what was currently in vogue, but something about that ice-sharp face and the grey eyes under those nicely-shaped eyebrows made him feel funny. The short-cropped blonde hair that looked now white, now gold only added to what felt like desire as it pooled through him.

Harry had never thought about his 'type', but he'd caught himself favoring tall blonde men with his eyes the few times he saw one. He tried to tell himself that he was just admiring an unusual brand of beauty, but as the weeks went by and the feeling only got stronger he finally had to confront it.

He had feelings for Draco. He knew Draco was gay, but he didn't think Draco knew that _he _was gay.

In typical fashion, his wants got the better of him. He tried to maintain their friendship and act normal. That moment in the hall changed things, though. He had stopped and silently asked Draco with his eyes if he was the only one feeling something more than friendship, and he had gotten an answer he wasn't sure how to feel about.

He wanted Draco and Draco wanted him back.

The more he thought about it the more convinced he became that one of them was going to have to make the first move, and that person was probably going to be him. He decided to wait until the time was right.

~000~

They had taken a long walk instead of going somewhere specifically. It was nice day, and the first warm winds were sweeping through the city.

Draco noticed that Harry was quieter than usual but thought nothing of it. The silence was comfortable, if a little sexually charged on Draco's side.

They turned a corner and began to stroll through a park, neither of them speaking.

Then Harry reached out and took Draco's hand. Draco was momentarily startled but didn't pull his hand away. Neither of them spoke the whole way back. Harry kept his gentle grip on his hand- his thin, white hand- for a very long time.

~000~

End Part Two B

Holy shit I actually managed to write this! I am very pleased with myself. Brain time and writing time are kind of scarce right now, so this is amazing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: This is my 100th story, and I don't think I need to tell you all how surreal that is. Because it is my century mark I took a little more time than usual, mostly biting my nails, and tried to come up with something different. This is a story in three/six parts about two young men letting go of childhood and going out to find meaning, purpose, independence, and love.

The story is supposed to be in three parts but the files were too big, so each part has been split in half.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. I make no profit from this piece of fan fiction.

**Warning:** This will contain homosexuality, nudity, cursing, and possibly vulgarity as well.

**University**

**Part Three A**

~000~

They parted ways to attend class without speaking about the fact that they'd spent the last several hours holding hands. There was a tacit agreement to speak about it later, when both of them had had some time to think and get some perspective on what this would and could mean for them.

"I'll meet you for a really early breakfast tomorrow, okay?"

"At the school cafeteria or…?"

"Sure. We'll meet at the school. I'll…I'll see you then," Harry smiled bashfully at him and after a moment dove forward and brushed his lips against Draco's cheek.

"Bye," Draco softly said, watching him retreat. He turned and went into class, his mind a spaghetti bowl of confused thoughts and emotions.

Unfortunately the next morning Harry showed up half an hour late and completely out of breath. In his fist was clenched a red piece of stationary. He handed it to Draco and sat down. Draco skimmed it.

It was from Hermione Granger, and stated in no uncertain terms that Harry needed to be there immediately to hear something very important. The word "immediately" was emphasized. It was underlined twice.

"I'm sorry I'm late, but I had to dash to the Dean's office and let him know where I'd be. Apparently I could've just biffed off without warning as long as I was back in 30 days, so that was a total waste of time. He said its fine if I miss class, and that it will be up to my teachers how this absence will affect my grades. He said not to worry, though, because there aren't any tests or quizzes planned until next month at the earliest. He says I won't even be missed."

Draco didn't know what to say. He handed Harry back the letter, swallowed, and asked, "What do you think it's about?"

"I don't know. She could be pregnant, engaged, dying, or running for Minister of Magic. I never know with her. Oh, by the way, my Portkey departs in about…" Harry pushed up his sleeve and inspected his watch, "two minutes. Um."

They were quiet. Draco looked away and took a sip of coffee. Harry stole a piece of toast from him and Draco smiled a little to show that it was alright. He was sure that Harry couldn't have had a chance to eat before now, running around like he'd been.

He hadn't slept a wink last night, kept up with thoughts of what they would say to each other today. He thought about how different his life could become if they decided to commit to each other. What would the press say? Harry's friends? His mother?

And oh god he still didn't know what to say to Vivian.

"Draco?"

"Hm?"

"I'll write to you. A super-long letter, like an old-fashioned novel."

Draco laughed. "I hope so. What are you going to write me about?"

"I don't know. I'll think of something."

Harry laid his hand on Draco's and lifted it. He kissed his wrist and let go. The Portkey activated and Harry vanished. Draco sat and finished his toast and fruit. He transferred his coffee into a portable paper cup and left for his first class.

~000~

"Alright, what's the emergency?" Harry demanded. He dropped his traveling bag and jammed his hands onto his hips like a matron before a pair of naughty children. The portkey had taken him to the Burrow, the living room to be exact. Ron and Hermione sat side by side on the sofa facing him, wearing identical beaming smiles.

A hunch made him look at their fingers, and there he found a ring on Ron's hand.

"Oh."

He moved backwards without looking and sank into the checkered sofa opposite them. His bag remained between them, an island on the carpet, forgotten for the moment.

It was raining outside, and the sound of it beating against the windows and trickling through the gutters filled the room. Ron and Hermione were still smiling, but he could see their nerves poking through now. After a while of looking back and forth between them and at the ring, he let out a long sigh and slumped back.

"Well! This is a shock."

Hermione snorted and Ron began to laugh. Harry joined in, letting the stress pour out of him in merriment.

When they'd calmed down Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and kissed her cheek.

"So, will you be my best man?"

"I…" Harry caught his breath, "Yeah! Of course! When's the wedding?"

"We haven't decided yet. We wanted to tell you first, and ask what time would be good for you. We prefer after graduation."

"Right, of course," Harry commiserated, standing. "What do you say I make us some hot mint tea to drink while we make plans?"

"Oh, good idea," Hermione stood and came with him into the kitchen. Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Ron twisting the ring on his finger with a soft look in his eyes. It made his heart twist pleasantly. Anyone who had seen Ron and Hermione since they started dating could tell you that marriage, children, and a nice country cottage would be the natural result. He just hadn't been expecting it so soon. Not when he was just figuring out some fundamental things about himself.

"So how is school?" Hermione asked, getting out the milk and setting it beside the sugar bowl. Harry shrugged.

"Good, fine. No problems. I told you I got a weekend job in my last letter, right?"

"Yeah. The one at a petting zoo?"

He gave her a look and saw her fighting a smirk. She saw him looking and covered her mouth to muffle her giggles. She waved a hand when he feinted an attack.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just funny. You go from saving the world to working weekends at a petting zoo with fairies, or wee folk or whatever you called them."

"Don't worry; I don't intend to make a career out of it."

She sobered, "What _do_ you want to make your career? You'll be 20 this year. It's time for you to think about your future, what you're going to do with your degree."

He sighed and poured the tea. He didn't answer until he'd finished adding the preferred amounts of milk and sugar to the various mugs. He put away the milk and paused with his back to her, looking out the window at the rain. The window was a streaked square looking out onto gray and muddy green blobs. He turned back to her.

"I'm not entirely sure yet, but I'd like to do something with wand-less charms. If that doesn't work out I was thinking potions."

Her eyebrows went up, "What field of potions?"

"Brewing."

"Oh. Well; that's unexpected, coming from you."

He gave her a sly smile, handing her Ron's mug, "There are lots of things you don't know about me. But enough of that. Let's talk about your wedding."

It was decided that the wedding would be on July 15th, a date that coincided with a gap in Bill Weasley's work schedule abroad and Charlie's seasonal break. The date made it possible for all the Weasley siblings to be there at the same time.

Harry was told to make himself available for the shower, bachelor party, rehearsal dinner, rehearsal, and any and all robes fittings or other situations that might arise. None of them said it, but they all knew that having Harry there to throw his weight around would make a lot of the organizing go easier.

By the time they finished their discussion it was late, and he was urged to spend the night and go back to school at noon the next day. This way he could sleep in and have brunch with them.

He slept in Bill's old room, wrapped up in the scents and sensations of his childhood. It was nice to visit, and he was ecstatic for his friend's, but his thoughts were with Draco. What was he thinking about? He had seemed pleased when Harry kissed his wrist that morning. But Harry didn't just want to flirt and fool around. He wanted a commitment, and he hoped to have that with Draco. Maybe some day it would be him telling Ron and Hermione that he was getting married, not the other way around.

~000~

With Harry gone Draco had more time to think. This was not necessarily good, because it gave him more time to obsess over the quandary he was in and over-analyze every little nuance to Harry's interactions with him. Was he being led on, played with, or was this real? Harry's letter only confused him further. His friends were engaged now. Did this mean that Harry would revert to the old days of hating his guts, or was this a sign that they were all growing up?

During his afternoon break he broke down. He needed to talk somebody about this before he lost his mind. He needed some fresh perspective. Finding Adelaide was easy; she always spent her afternoon break under the same tree, either with a book or in quiet conversation with one of her many female friends. He wasn't the only one who found her a level-headed and loving advisor.

She was alone today. She had her book resting open on her lap as her dark eyes vacantly scanned the students shuffling back and forth. He sat down beside her and waited for her to notice him before he opened his mouth and began to confide all of the intimate details of his problem.

She listened quietly, only every now and again asking a question for clarification. It felt good, cathartic, to say everything out loud. Draco smiled a bit, inappropriately, when he was done.

After some silent pondering, Adelaide advised, "First of all, you need to tell everything you just told me to your mother."

"What? I can't do that! She'd…she'd…" what _would_ she do? He had no idea. Adelaide was right, though. He needed to tell her eventually. Waiting wasn't going to make her somebody else. He could wait a hundred years and she would still be his mother.

"Draco, trust me. She has a right to know. You're her only child, and she obviously loves you. Telling her will also help you make peace with it. No matter what you might be telling yourself, keeping this from her makes the reality of your sexuality less real. Do you understand?"

"I guess you're right. What else?"

"Obviously Vivian has got to go. It was stupid of you to get involved with him in the first place, but we're young and prone to doing stupid things in love. Once Vivian is gone, you can't just forget about him, though. You'll need to tell Harry."

"Why? If I give up Vivian to be with Harry, why does Harry need to know he wasn't my first?"

Adelaide gave him such a look of pity that he felt ashamed and had to look away.

"Honestly, Draco? Look, relationships are built on trust. From what you've told me you two have a bit of a nasty history together. This whole romantic thing is very new to both of you and you will both need to be careful not to fuck it up. Alright?"

"Alright."

"So, what are you doing to do?" 

"Tell mum, give Vivian the sack, be honest with Harry."

"Very good. Now piss off. I love you and I'm happy to advise you, but I've just gotten to the juicy bit of Wuthering Heights and I'd like to read it."

"Weren't you reading this book a month ago?"

"Yeah, so?"

He rolled his eyes and stood. "Thanks, Ada."

She gave him a sunny smile, "All in a day's work."

He trudged off to his last class, and spent more time writing out ways to tell his mother he liked blokes than notes about the history of aquatic charms.

After class he went home and removed his shoes so that he could lie down on the sofa with the newspaper. He tried to read it but found he couldn't concentrate. He wondered what time it was in the Caribbean.

Twenty minutes later he sat straight up and jammed his feet back into his shoes.

"Fuck it, I'll tell her tonight."

~000~

Her cottage was yellow and no more than a colorful shed from the outside. He knocked on one of the lopsided white shutters and waited for someone to open the door. In the mean time he admired her flowering bushes crowded close to the house. Something nudged his leg. He looked down and found a goat. It nuzzled his hand, and he realized that it was after the Daily Prophet, which he'd brought with him to read in case she was out.

He held it out of reach but the goat looked so forlorn he gave in after only a few minutes and tore out the celebrity gossip page and fed it to the goat. His mother chose to open the door just then.

"Draco! Did you just feed my goat magical paper?"

"Um…" he froze, guilty, "Yes?"

"Why in god's name would you do that?" Her accusing tone suggested that he had done something bordering on indecent.

"It was hungry!"

The goat chose then to have a bout of noisy, colorful gas.

"Oh dear. Bjorn!"

A tall and tanned Nordic man came outside, wearing an apron stained with BBQ sauce over his bare chest. He was around Narcissa's age, shockingly, and rather handsome. Draco let his eyes do a wander while Bjorn talked to his mother. He could definitely see why his mother would have chosen to keep company with this man.

"Yes, love?"

"My son's gone and poisoned the goat. Could you call the veterinarian?"

"Of course."

Draco and Bjorn exchanged wary glances before Bjorn disappeared back inside. Narcissa turned to him and suddenly smiled, looking him over.

"You cut your hair!" she exclaimed.

"I did. Do you like it short, or should I grow it out?"

"Oh, keep it long. Forgive me, but you look like a woman with it long. Your jaw is too delicate to pull off that look with your masculinity intact. Come inside before you get a sunburn or decide to poison the other goats, you worthless boy." 

He grinned and followed her inside. It was bigger inside than out, but not as much as he was expecting. It was painted bright blue and tiled with black and white squares. He admired it and then had a seat on the plush blue sofa against one wall. She settled into the hammock hung across. All the windows were open. The cottage was flooded with sunshine and cool winds blew through it. He saw two other goats grazing in the yard with their still-flatulent companion.

A little pug dog came trotting into the room and leapt onto her lap. She stroked his ears and then held him up for Draco to see, "Draco, dear, this is your replacement, Benedict. He's still a naughty boy, but much more obedient than you."

"That's fascinating, mother. Now, this might be a shock, but I didn't come here to talk about your dog."

Narcissa smiled, "I know, son. Now, tell mommy your troubles."

He had a speech planned out, but he had unconsciously prepared for hostility. He couldn't possibly say things the same way now, not when she was so cheerful and willing to listen. He decided to be straightforward.

"I'm gay."

He had been expecting just about anything. He was prepared for her to yell at him, slap him, call him a liar, or accept it at face value. Instead, she rolled her eyes and began to laugh.

"Oh Draco, I'm glad you finally know that about yourself."

He was gob smacked. Before he could pick up the pieces of his brain, the whole story came tumbling out. He finished with, "I love him, and for whatever reason he seems to like me back…so. What do I do?"

"Tell him! But not too quickly, or it won't come across the way you'd like."

Draco nodded. That sounded like sound advice.

Narcissa invited him to stay for dinner. He tried to decline but was not allowed. He ended up sitting across from Bjorn, who appeared to be as uncomfortable as he was. Eventually they decided to just ignore their respective relationships to Narcissa and be civil.

He went home feeling relieved and like a new man. Adelaide had been right. Until now, his homosexuality had seemed more like an experiment or a phase he was going through. Now it was definitely real. He was officially out of the closet completely.

~000~

The next day Vivian sought him out with an invitation to dinner at his apartment, sent via owl. Draco accepted, knowing that he needed to end things that night for good. He could only hope that Vivian wouldn't be too hurt. He was glad that Vivian hadn't asked him to his face. He had a suspicion that he would have blurted out that they were finished.

He still hadn't seen Harry.

When he arrived he could immediately tell that something had changed. Hovering around Vivian seemed to be a sense of long drawn-out resignation. He followed his lover into the kitchen and accepted the glass of wine he was offered. Vivian took a large drink of his, and then said,

"You love someone else, don't you?"

"What?"

That came out of nowhere. He had no idea that he was so obvious. Draco didn't know what to say or do. Fortunately Vivian continued, giving Draco more time to think.

"I followed you the past three weeks. I just wanted to see you go about your day, to look at you. You're so beautiful; I don't think you know how beautiful you are. From the moment I first saw you, you've captivated me. So perhaps you can understand how much it hurt to see the way you behaved with that young man. The young dark-haired one. It's him, isn't it? I've watched the way you look at him."

Draco swallowed. Vivian looked close to tears.

"I was going to ask you to move in with me. I wanted you to meet my mother. I'm glad I didn't."

"God, Vivian, you don't understand-"

"No, I understand completely. We didn't have a lot of rules, Draco. I let you be free. You're young, and I remember what that feels like. What I don't appreciate is the way you just led me on. How long would you have waited before you told me?"

"I was going to tell you tonight."

Vivian drank the rest of his wine and turned his back on him. Draco watched him bow his head; saw the slump in his shoulders, the curious looseness in his stance as though he was barely holding himself up.

This wasn't how he'd this conversation to go. Cautiously he approached and laid a hand on Vivian's shoulder. Vivian didn't respond, so he slid it down and wrapped his arms around him from behind, tucking his cheek into the space between Vivian's shoulder blades.

Even now, he liked the way Vivian smelled and enjoyed the way it felt to be close to him. He felt Vivian grab his hands with his own and keep tight hold of them. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I can't help it. I've loved Harry since I was a little boy. I never thought he'd love me back. I cared, I care about you. I promise I never meant for this to happen. I didn't want you to get hurt." 

"I know," Vivian rasped out, his fingers spasmodically squeezing Draco's. Draco could feel a wetness dripping onto them, and knew that Vivian was weeping. "But it still hurts. You're a special person, Draco. You're young, but you're also cultured, intelligent, and beautiful. And there is a maturity in you that I know comes from the tragedy you have lived through. I wanted you to be a part of my life."

"Couldn't we be friends?"

Vivian shook his head, "No, that would never work for me. I would want you more every time I saw your face." 

They didn't say anything after that. Eventually they ended up sitting on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor, their arms around one another. They stayed there until past midnight, when Draco had to go home.

Vivian walked him to the door and kissed his cheek.

"Goodbye, Draco. I enjoyed being your lover. If…if things don't work out with this young man of yours, come to me."

"Alright. Bye, Vivian."

And just like that it was over. He lay alone in his bed, surrounded by the borrowed opulence of Octavian's gorgeous apartments. He hoped that everything was going to work out.

~000~

Mahshid's roof garden was where Harry went to think.

When he returned from England that was the first place he went. It was spring now and the flowers had been taken out from under the tarps. Chamomile blossoms and lavender were grouped with parsley and thyme. He sat very still and watched them bob in the wind, thinking.

He thought about his future. He thought about his friends, his past. And he thought about Draco. He no longer fit ever-so-neatly into life back in England, and being with Draco would only widen the rift. His friends would eventually come to terms with it, but things wouldn't be the same ever again. Even if they broke up, his sexuality and willingness to be with an old enemy would mark him as someone different than they perceived him.

That was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

He wrote Draco a note asking him to come by for dinner that night, including his address and a recommend time of arrival. He'd already missed two days of classes. There was no reason he shouldn't make it three.

He was going to cook dinner for them.

~000~

End Part Three A

Amazingly it has only been roughly a week since my last update. It felt like a month. Anyway, Part B and the epilogue will be up at some point, namely when I get some brain space again. And yes, there will be sex in one of those. Hold me to that! Or else I'll get lazy and try to get out of it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**: This is my 100th story, and I don't think I need to tell you all how surreal that is. Because it is my century mark I took a little more time than usual, mostly biting my nails, and tried to come up with something different. This is a story in three/six parts about two young men letting go of childhood and going out to find meaning, purpose, independence, and love.

The story is supposed to be in three parts but the files were too big, so each part has been split in half.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. I make no profit from this piece of fan fiction.

**Warning:** This will contain homosexuality, nudity, cursing, and possibly vulgarity as well.

**University**

**Part Three B**

~000~

Draco was in Arithmancy when a doodle he'd drawn in the margin of his textbook wriggled and transformed into the words "Meet me for dinner tonight at my place. Harry". After a moment the words changed into an address. Draco copied it down on a scrap of paper before it could disappear and felt his spirits lift for the first time since he'd ended things with Vivian.

He hadn't realized until now how much he'd missed Harry.

It would be nice to see where Harry lived, and not only because of what had happened the last time he went to a man's apartment. He smiled to himself and began to plan what he'd wear, and whether or not he should buy something sweet for them to share on his way over. He noticed that Harry's apartment was very close to the school, which would make his commute shorter.

A moment was spent daydreaming about how, if they lived together, they could walk to school together if they had simultaneous classes.

The moment passed and he told himself that moving in together was definitely a little too fast for him right now. That and he wasn't sure if he wanted to live with another person again at all. Octavian didn't count. He was so unobtrusive it was like living with a painting, not a person.

He went home and got changed during his afternoon break between classes. From the way his Professor looked at him throughout her lecture, he knew that he'd succeeded in looking nicer than usual. Who knew something as simple as a blue sweater could make so much difference?

It was just five in the evening when he set off for Harry's address. It was on a nice little street, three stories high. He saw some vines trailing down the front from the top and surmised that there was a roof garden. He could smell the lavender from the street.

He inspected the row of buttons and pushed the one with Harry's unmistakable chicken scrawl on it. He didn't even bother trying to read it. The door opened and he entered, heading up the stairs. The number beside Harry's button was for the third floor.

Harry met him halfway up the stairs, smiling and anxiously twisting his hands. There was a heartbeat when neither of them knew how to greet the other. Draco decided to be bold and darted forward to kiss Harry's cheek. Harry beamed and pulled him into a quick hug.

"Hey."

"Thanks for inviting me."

The apartment was small but immaculate. The lingering scents of lemon and pine gave away that Harry had spent quite some time cleaning. Draco smiled at Harry's back, and accepted the offer of tea.

The tiny sink and a free-standing miniature stove were crowded with dishes. Draco asked what they would be eating and Harry explained that it was a salad nicoise, if a bit sloppily presented. They sat side by side on Harry's comfortable couch and ate mostly in silence. They both knew that heavier conversation would be occurring at some point, but neither of them was eager to bring it up.

"Hm?"

"Yes?"

"What?"

"I thought you…"

"No."

"Ah."

They had an extremely good white wine with their dinner. It was a little heavy and sweet, but excellent. The wine washed away most of their nerves, and when Harry got up to put away the plates Draco followed. He leaned against Harry's back and wrapped his arms around him in a bizarre mirror of how he had held Vivian just a few days ago.

Harry rinsed the dishes as though there was nothing out of the ordinary. When they were stacked in the sink he turned and put his hands on Draco's shoulders. Draco went still and just met his gaze and held on.

"Draco…I know that we've become quite good friends, and I'm very excited about the way things have begun to blossom. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want us to have a go at it, if that's alright with you."

"It's more than alright; it's the best damn thing you've ever said."

"Good."

Draco moved first and Harry met his lips, moving his hands from Draco's shoulders to his hair. They kissed until Harry broke away with a wince; he'd bashed his kidney into a knob on his portable stove.

"Listen, I need to tell you something before we go charging into this," Draco burst out, knowing that if he didn't tell Harry about Vivian right away he would lose his nerve.

"Okay. Let's go sit on the sofa, where I'm out of danger from my kitchen."

They sat. Draco felt his courage begin to flag, so he opened his mouth and said bluntly, "I just broke up with my boyfriend to be with you."

"Oh!" Harry was understandably surprised. "Wow. I, uh, didn't know that you were in a relationship."

"That's because I made sure not to tell you. You see, I've had feelings for you for a long time. A long, long time. And when you said you wanted to be friends I was so desperate just to be near you that I never brought up the topic of relationships or love at all, and changed the subject when you did. I knew that if we talked about that sort of thing it would slip that I was gay, and I didn't know how that would make you feel about me. That and I would probably have done something stupid like tell you how I felt."

"Oh," Harry said again, but this time it sounded suspiciously like a sigh. "If you fancied me, why were you dating somebody else?" 

"I met him before we became friends. I met him shortly after I came here, and at first it was a sort of…well, we sort of met when we wanted to be with someone. A while ago he told me that he wanted more from me, and at the time I thought that there was no way I would ever have a chance of being with you, so I said yes. I didn't want to spend my life alone. But then all of this happened, and I knew it wasn't fair to you or to him for me to continue seeing him. So I ended it."

"And I'm guessing he didn't take it too well?"

Draco shrugged and looked away, "He was upset, but he's a grown man and he took it like one."

"Is he a student at school?"

Draco blushed, "Um, no. He's the Advanced Runes Professor."

Harry's eyebrows went up, "Who, Vivian Van Veen?"

"Yes."

Harry was quiet, wide-eyed. After a bit he coughed and looked out the window, "Well, I can see what you saw. He's attractive."

"Yes."

Harry reached over and wrapped his arm around Draco, pulling him close. He kissed the top of his head, "Thanks for telling me. It would've been really awkward if I found out from somebody else. I'm glad that you felt confident enough to confide in me, and I will work to be honest with you too in the future."

Draco didn't say anything, but slipped his arm across Harry's stomach. He closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose, relishing the scent and sensation of being so close to Harry. It was amazing that Harry was holding him, and in a romantic way, not just as a friend. In all of his hopes for the future, this simple act was far beyond anything he had prayed for.

"I'm really happy that you want to be with me."

Draco moved closer and smiled, "I really like you."

"I hope so."

Harry smiled over at him, and Draco leant forward to kiss him.

Things progressed to the point of Draco straddling Harry's hips, dressed only in his pants and a sock. Harry stopped him and, suddenly shy, whispered, "Would you like to spend the night here, with me?"

"Of course I want to," Draco whispered back, afraid to speak any louder lest he break the mood. He didn't want to think about going slow or how he would feel in the morning after falling into bed with Harry.

Harry squirmed under him, "We have to unfold the sofa into a bed. it won't take a moment."

Draco reluctantly crawled off his chest and helped Harry unfold and then find the pillows for the bed. It didn't look like much, but as soon as he climbed between the sheets he never wanted to leave. He hadn't the slightest notion what sort of charms Harry had cast, but one thing was for certain. There was no way Harry was going to get him to sleep anywhere else but beside him.

Harry paused to slip off his underwear and peel off his socks before crawling in beside Draco. Draco had propped himself up on one elbow to watch Harry undress and smiled at him when Harry snuggled close enough to kiss his shoulder.

"Why am I the only one naked?"

"Cheeky," Draco gave him a dry smile and then followed suit, flinging his briefs across the room and rolling on top of Harry. Harry 'oophed' at the sudden weight but didn't complain. He even put his arms around Draco's back so that he couldn't leave.

"I like having you close."

Draco rolled his hips against Harry's and Harry moaned. Draco smiled, "I like this too."

Harry pulled him down for a long kiss and then asked, "Do you want to…? Because I want to. It's just that I've never, you know."

Draco stopped thinking for a moment as his brain tried to process that, "Oh. Oh! Um. Yes, I want to have sex, but only if you're sure. The first time is supposed to be nice, and I don't want you to just have sex with me because you're horny or because you feel like you have to."

"I don't feel like I have to. I want to. And how could it get more special than this?" Harry joked, grabbing Draco's backside and giving it a squeeze. Draco tried to be serious but burst out laughing. He had to bury his face in Harry's shoulder, shaking. Harry chuckled and kissed his neck.

When Draco had calmed down Harry asked, "So how do we do this? I'm assuming oil or lube or whatever is involved in some way. Considering."

"Right," Draco fought to keep a straight face and succeeded this time. He had brought condoms and lubricant, just in case, and was glad he had. "Give me a second. I need to get some stuff."

Harry shuffled back to sit up against the head board while Draco hunted around in his trouser pockets for the supplies; finding them, he returned and sat cross legged on top of the covers.

"Okay. So…" feeling a lot like a school teacher, Draco explained the basics of gay sex. Harry nodded and hummed periodically, no longer embarrassed. When Draco had finished explaining he asked Harry,

"Which position would you prefer to try?"

Harry chewed his lip, "I'm interested in being the…receiver."

"Okay," Draco hid his surprise and rolled over so that he lay on his stomach beside Harry. He put his hand on Harry's stomach and gently massaged it while he spoke, "Are you sure? I've only topped once before, and I don't know if I'm any good. I can't guarantee that this will be good for you."

Harry smiled, "We don't have to start out perfect. We can learn what works through trial and error. I don't intend to let you go any time soon."

Draco sat up and helped Harry rearrange the pillows until he could lie comfortably on his back. 

"Is this position good? We can change it if it's not working for you."

Harry reached up and ran his hands lightly down his arms, braced on either side of Harry's head, "I like this one. I want to see you."

Draco snorted and then whimpered when Harry suddenly gripped him and gave him a few hesitant strokes.

"Come on. Stop stalling."

"Okay…" Draco hadn't wanted to admit to himself how nervous he was about this. Harry's confidence in him helped. He opened the lube and spread some on his fingers. Harry's eyes followed his movements. He was very calm, and that calm kept Draco moving. He helped Harry maneuver one leg to his chest and bent the other one out to the side. Harry laughed, tickled, when Draco touched the back of his knee.

"If this is all a clever ruse for you to get me into a vulnerable tickling position, I am going to be very cross," Harry joked, reaching out with the hand not holding his leg in place to stroke Draco's short blonde hair.

Draco chuckled, "It's not, I swear. Now, relax and try to inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth. It will help loosen the muscles… down there."

"Down there?" Harry mocked. Draco pinched the underside of his thigh and Harry swatted him. a short scuffle ensued, ending with Draco sprawled on top of Harry and both of them laughing. Harry sobered just a little and grabbed Draco's slick hand. Meeting Draco's eyes, he held them as he guided Draco's hand down between his legs and then lower. Draco took a breath and pressed a finger inside. Harry maintained the breathing pattern recommended and Draco found that he was quite relaxed. He winced as the second knuckle popped in, but otherwise showed no signs of discomfort. Draco grew bolder and thrust his middle finger in and out until Harry became used to the sensation. Then he added a second and scissored them. Harry grunted and gasped, hips rolling down to meet them. Draco felt a heavy flush of arousal cover his face and chest as the realization that he was making love to Harry sunk in. He pressed his nose to Harry's neck and breathed with him as he stretched him out thoroughly.

He re-lubed his fingers and used three fingers when he returned. Harry groaned and his hands turned white at the fingertips.

"Alright?" Draco whispered.

"Y-Yeah…it feels good…"

Draco deemed him ready and reached around blindly with his left hand for a condom. He opened it with his teeth and then removed his fingers from Harry to roll it on himself. After a moment he asked Harry, "Do you want one too, for the mess?"

Harry shook his head, "I know some charms for cleaning."

"Oh, nice."

"Yeah."

Draco lubricated himself and then grabbed hold of Harry's hip with one hand and the back of the couch with his other for leverage. He began to push inside. His neck gave out when his tip broke through that first heaven-tight circle of muscle and he let out a long-low moan. Harry laughed breathlessly.

He began to thrust in and then retreated a few inches before pushing back in. Harry sighed and reached down with his free hand to stroke himself. Draco lifted his head from Harry's neck to press lazy open-mouthed kisses against his lips. Harry licked his tongue and smiled.

"I think you sold yourself short, Draco, because this feels pretty fucking fantastic."

"Really?"

Harry nodded, his eyes soft in the hazy light of the mushroom-shaded lamp.

They made no effort to change the speed of their love-making, keeping a steady slow pace for almost three hours. They both came close numerous times, but Draco was used to Vivian's stamina and had developed a multitude of tricks to stave off orgasm. Harry looked ready to murder him at least twice when Draco gripped the base of his erection to keep him from orgasming. Draco only smiled and reassured him that it was better to wait.

At the three-hour mark Draco, sweaty and aroused beyond all reason, sped up just a bit, angling his thrusts so that he hit Harry's spot every single time. Harry groaned and gripped his back with both hands, one leg braced on Draco's shoulder, pulling him deeper and closer.

Sparks zoomed through Draco's nervous system and his blood surged inside him, throbbing through his temples and heating the base of his spine to roughly the temperature of lava. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto the pillow. Harry suddenly shuddered beneath him and then went rigid. Draco looked down and saw his face twist into an expression of ecstasy.

Draco let out a whimper and felt his orgasm wash over and through him. He collapsed limply on top of Harry, senseless.

Some time later, Harry stirred beneath him and Draco remembered to roll off. Before he could reach down and do it, Harry flicked his fingers and the soiled condom and the mess of Harry's release that had been plastered across both of them vanished. The drying sweat pulling his skin taut was gone as well.

Draco reached for the covers, bunched at the base of the bed, and Harry handed him one of the pillows. Draco accepted it and wrapped them both in the blankets. Harry snuggled close, looped his arm over Draco's waist and keeping him near. Draco kissed him and Harry kissed him back until they both fell asleep.

~000~

It was morning but it was still dark out. Chilly shadows lay over many of the streets and clung to the corners of rooms. Draco turned his head on the pillow and watched the slow rise and fall of Harry's chest as he slept.

When Harry awoke, he reached both arms up in a big stretch and then turned to look at Draco. Draco laid his hand between his pectorals, over his heart, and smiled.

They walked to school together, holding hands.

~000~

A happy month went by. Draco spent half of his nights at Octavian's, doing homework, and the other half with Harry. The nights apart were a necessity, because otherwise they spent all of their study time wrapped around each other or in Harry's heavenly bed doing things to each other that had absolutely nothing to do with school assignments.

Draco encountered Vivian on the grounds of the school on a Saturday when he was heading to the office of the Transfiguration Professor to turn in a paper a day late. He had asked for an extra day so that he could hunt down a missing source that someone else had checked out of the library.

Vivian had obviously been drinking. His normally immaculate appearance was just slightly rumpled, and his hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction as though he had done nothing but run his hands through it for a week. Draco was, at first, merely uncomfortable. He nodded to him and wanted to pass him on the path they both occupied but Vivian seized his arm and dragged him off the path and onto the green. That was when Draco began to get afraid. This was completely out of character for Vivian, who had always respected his personal space before.

Vivian pinned him against a tree. He stared into Draco's big gray eyes for a breathless moment and then suddenly and without warning burst into tears. Through sobs he begged Draco to reconsider and take him back, promising that he'd do everything in his power to be everything and more that Harry was.

Shocked, Draco tried to get away but Vivian held firm. He asked, in desperation, how Vivian had found him.

"I used a tracking charm. Please, Draco, I love you. You can't deny me!"

That was when Vivian leaned in and forced his mouth against Draco's. Draco tried to fight him off, really frightened now because they were largely alone on the campus, but Vivian was stronger than him.

Over Vivian's shoulder he saw someone sprinting towards them. It was only when Vivian was hauled away from him and solidly punched on the nose that he recognized Harry. Harry's hair and eyes were wild, and he punched Vivian again, this time in the eye, and knocked him down.

Before Draco could say anything, Harry grabbed his hand and dragged him away.

Safe a few streets away, Harry pulled him into and alleyway and inspected him for injuries. A brush was forming at the corner of his mouth where Vivian had been entirely too enthusiastic. Harry gently kissed the bruise and then held him, rocking him side to side.

Draco clung to him, feeling like a scared maiden and hating it, but grateful for Harry's rescue.

~000~

The next morning they made an appointment with the Dean's secretary.

At noon they sat in the Dean's office and reported Vivian's actions.

The Dean, a tired-looking man in his 200s, gravely informed them that Vivian had already confessed and resigned, humiliated and disgusted with himself. He opened a drawer in his desk and removed a letter, which he handed to Draco. Draco excused himself and opened it by the window.

Inside was a heartfelt apology letter from Vivian, stating that although the alcohol was only an excuse, that he never would have behaved the way he had in his right mind. Vivian ended his note with the promise that Draco would never see him again.

They thanked the Dean and left. In the hall outside Draco handed Harry the letter. Harry read it and then pulled Draco close, pressing a kiss behind his ear.

"Oh, sweetheart."

~000~

Later that week Octavian returned. He had returned with the addition of a new girlfriend named Cecilia Blemley. Cecelia had the shaky tact to wait until the three of them sat down for dinner together before essentially demanding, behind the mask of polite language, that Draco stop 'taking advantage of Octavian' and either start paying rent or move out.

Octavian was scandalized, and Draco was irritated, but he could see that Octavian really did care about Cecelia. He decided to take the path of least resistance and move out. There was no way he could afford to pay rent.

Harry was surprised but pleased when Draco explained his new status as technically homeless and asked if he could live with him.

They added a new cupboard to store Draco's clothes and books in, and magically expanded the bathroom so that it had two sinks and larger shower area to fit them more comfortably.

A few days later Draco couldn't remember what it was like to live any other way.

~000~

At the end of the month Octavian came to visit him, concerned to see if Draco had found decent lodging. He met Harry for the first time.

They all had a pleasant lunch together on the roof of the building, surrounded by the landlady's gorgeous herbs and flowers, which had grown suspiciously large ever since Harry started spending time amongst them.

Draco had been half-afraid of a fight, but they got along so well that Draco became jealous and had to be soothed by Harry once his cousin departed. Harry reassured him that Draco was the only cultured blonde he was truly interested in.

~000~

Gabrielle, with Persis in tow, scared the living shit out of Harry and Draco when she let out a triumphant yell upon coming across them kissing in the park.

Since that meeting, and the realization that they all knew each other, they spent Thursday nights on double-dates with the girls. Persis was slow to warm up to them, but once Draco discovered a common interest in art history that road was paved.

Almost without their realizing it, they began to lay down roots in the gay scene. They made new friends and went out a few nights a week to socialize, in marked contrast with their initial isolation.

Octavian, sans Cecilia, even joined them a few times for a drink.

Paris was beginning to feel like home.

~000~

It was July 15th, the day of Ron and Hermione's wedding.

"What if your friends can't stand me?"

"My friends are a very disparate and discordant group. They can barely stand each other," Harry soothed, patting his arm.

Who Harry was bringing as his 'Plus 1' had been a matter of much argument, interest, and bets. Harry refused to tell Hermione and Ron despite their pleas about what was so secret. He had come out to them some months ago (Hermione screamed, Ron fainted), so they were already expecting a man. But who?

Now Harry and Draco stood in the lobby of the Muggle hotel where the wedding was being held. Draco got more nervous every minute that passed. Harry soothed him every time he voiced some new concern. Would they find his expensive suit pretentious? Would Ron punch him?

Hermione met them in the lobby, accompanied by Ginny and Luna. The three of them carried their dresses, wrapped safely in plastic.

Hermione spotted Harry and waved, hurrying over. She didn't seem to recognize Draco at first, too busy hugging the daylights out of Harry. Harry had seen her last night at the rehearsal, but she embraced him as though he had just returned from a ten-year sabbatical as a hermit.

"Oh Harry, in a couple of hours I'm going to be a married woman!"

He laughed and hugged her back, "I know! I can't believe it!"

They sprang apart after a while and her eyes strayed to Draco. Draco flushed a little under her gaze but lifted his chin. Harry could pinpoint the exact moment she recognized him.

"Malfoy? Your date is _Malfoy?" _she shrieked, horrified. Harry burst out laughing and hugged her again. This time she was too shocked to hug him back.

When he released her, she murmured, "You brought Draco Malfoy as your date to my wedding. You son of a bitch," without warning she whirled and punched him in the shoulder, exclaiming, "You are shit at secrets! I can't believe you kept this secret for so long! This is totally ridiculous!"

"Have I ruined your day?" Harry asked sarcastically, grinning.

She shook her head, "No; I'm just really, really surprised. Anyway, welcome, Malfoy. A boyfriend of Harry's is always welcome, no matter whom he is."

Draco looked like you could knock him over with a feather, hearing her say that. Ginny came forward and made it worse by warmly shaking his hand. Luna's hug was icing on the cake.

"What…?"

"Well, we need to go get changed now. Bye boys!"

They girls waved cheerfully and disappeared up the staircase of the lobby and down a hall. Harry grabbed and squeezed Draco's hand.

"See? I told you it would be fine."

Ron's reaction was a lot less friendly, but he sucked it up and put on a brave front because Harry clearly loved Draco and that obviously wasn't going to change. Harry could barely believe it. It would seem that Ron and Hermione had grown up a lot while he was away. He had suspected it from their letters, but seeing it with his own eyes was another matter.

Somehow they had all become adults, albeit young ones.

The wedding went off without a hitch. Well, unless you count George deciding to spring a surprise firework display during the sealing kisses a hitch. It scared the daylights out of everyone in the congregation, seeing an exploding pink heart come out of nowhere like that. Several elderly relatives fainted, and one wet himself.

During the reception Ginny approached Harry and they caught up on each other's lives. She told him that she broke up with Steven, the handsome apprentice, due to a catfight with his girlfriend that sort of ruined things.

Finally, just as she was getting up to go and flirt with one of Hermione's male cousins, she laid her hand on his shoulder and said sincerely, "Harry, I'm proud of you. I like the person you've become, and I even like seeing you with Draco. You're very sweet together."

"Thanks."

They smiled at one another and then she was gone.

~000~

It was the last day of school.

Draco performed his morning ritual with deftness and precision. He brushed his teeth. He shaved. He laid out his clothes. He peeled and ate an orange. He dressed. He paused in front of the mirror, book bag on his shoulder, and tied his tie. He locked the door behind him. Harry had already gone to class an hour earlier.

Walking down the street, he breathed the sweet air and thought happy thoughts.

He had been dating Harry Potter, the man he loved, for almost four years now. And in six months they were moving to Iceland together, where Harry had a scholarship to get his doctorate in Advanced Wandless Charms. Draco had spent the past two years studying Greek and Latin. He had decided to dedicate his life to translating forgotten magic.

Waiting for him at the gates of the school was Harry, fresh out of class. He smiled when he saw Draco and Draco quickened his pace. He stopped chest-to-chest with Harry and kissed him on the mouth without caring who saw.

"Good morning."

~000~

End Part Three B

There is a brief epilogue coming, and then all done.


	7. Chapter 7

**University Part 4: Epilogue**

Harry sat twisting his wedding ring, ignoring the papers he was supposed to be grading. It was Draco's turn to make dinner tonight, and he suspected that it was going to be his favorite, lamb with couscous. They were celebrating his recent promotion from Associate Professor to Full Professor at the simply-named University of Seidhr, the most prestigious magical university in Europe, located in Gamla Uppsala, Sweden.

His wand-less charms had become famous with a pair of books he'd published, and he was booked for the summer to tour the continent speaking in various venues about the practical aspects of living independently of one's wand.

Draco worked as an independent art curator, so he was able to travel with Harry without fearing that he would lose his job. In his spare time he translated old Runes manuals. He also worked as an interior decorator through referrals, most of which came from Pansy.

After the initial debacle of meeting Harry's friends, they had meshed well for the most part. The same couldn't be said of Draco's old crowd. Pansy and Theodore were the only ones who were civil, though neither of them went out of their way to spend time with Harry. Harry bore all of this with a brave face. He was married to the most wonderful man in the world. Who cared if not all of their friends from school didn't like it?

He finally stopped daydreaming and scrambled to get all of the papers graded before he needed to be at home. They were just magical records of how his students had performed the practical section of class. He smiled when he saw that, for the most part, they at least understood the concept. Only a small fraction had managed to levitate their feathers without a wand, but a small fraction was still a fraction. That was a huge step up from it being considered technically impossible.

To say that Harry was glad he had decided to become a teacher rather than and Auror would be an understatement. There was something divine about seeing a student's eyes widen when they realized that boundaries were only there if you thought they were.

He finished in time and packed up his journals for reading that evening. With a snap of his fingers he vanished.

He reappeared in the living room of the modest flat he shared with Draco. Other than their books, neither of them had many possessions so owning a large place was impractical.

As he had expected, Draco had cooked his favorite. They kissed each other hello and then sat down to eat.

Holding hands over coffee afterwards, they discussed the upcoming tour and possible recreational diversions they could make. A tour of the cathedrals was obviously a must. Draco would deny him sex for a year if Harry said no to that.

When they'd finished eating and the dishes were put away, they retired to their bedroom to read and possibly fool around.

Harry had just gotten comfortable, wearing the blue striped pajamas Draco bought him for Christmas, when Draco spoke up.

"Harry, my love, how do you feel about adopting a child?"

~000~

End Epilogue

End University

Well, this is it. I can only hope that I enjoy teaching as much as Harry evidently does, though I've still got some years of schooling to go before I can expound upon the joys of literature to university students.

Please review and tell me whether you liked it or not


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